


Catalysis

by bigfivedonaldduckfan



Category: Brave (2012), Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Dark Comedy, Drama, Elsida, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frohana (Disney), Love, Magic, Merelsa, Merilsa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2020-09-28 03:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 115,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigfivedonaldduckfan/pseuds/bigfivedonaldduckfan
Summary: One day you're living a completely ordinary life with your ordinary parents, another they die in an unfortunate car accident. Next thing you know, you're about to start a new life with your estranged older sister you haven't had any contact with in twelve years.There's only one thing Anna can say: 'It be like that sometimes'.Elsa doesn't know what the hell she's doing. Okay, sure, taking care of Anna shouldn't be that hard, even if she has to do it while simultaneously working a very risky job. Still, it's going to be a challenge, trying to mend the broken relationship with her sister, especially when said sister begins to meddle in Elsa's strange love life.Throw in a criminal organisation with a dangerous plan, and the party's started; whatever Anna and Elsa thought was going to happen, it's going to be a wilder ride than they expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my newest clusterfuck of a story! It will be a funny clusterfuck, though, so I hope you'll give it a chance! Mostly Merelsa with some Kristanna, hope you enjoy!

The first thing Anna noticed, was that puberty had hit her sister like a truck.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course not. Anna would be the last to deny that Elsa had become beautiful. But she looked so… _different_ from what Anna remembered. Anna remembered a little girl, eight years of age, with soft blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes sparkling with mischief whenever her younger sister suggested playing a prank on their father.

This Elsa, on the other hand, was not a little girl anymore. She'd grown up, like Anna had done. She was taller now, with sharper features and a sense of _maturity_ that Anna herself didn't possess. Her hair was tied into a perfect, messy French braid (how did she make 'messy' and 'perfect' fit in the same sentence?), and her body, well, if Elsa would ever feel the need to apply for a job as a supermodel, she'd be hired straight away. Even her eyes were different, though they still shone the same brilliant blue; they'd grown just a little colder, and the twinkling Anna had loved was nowhere to be found.

All in all, Elsa Arens did not look like someone who'd been dead for twelve years.

When Anna had entered the police station, flanked by Kai and Gerda, she had promised herself to double-check if Elsa (or, she thought, the person _claiming_ to be her deceased sister) was not, in fact, a zombie. Anna really hadn't known what to expect; it had to be an intruder, it _h__ad_ to be, because there was no way the little girl her parents had buried could still be walking around somewhere… right?

When Anna first laid eyes upon this Elsa she didn't know anymore, she had to alter her previous thought process: if this woman was an intruder, just a lousy impersonation of who her sister could've become, she did a damn good job.

Anna had watched a great deal of vampire shows on Netflix, and she'd binged The Walking Dead on top of that, so she considered herself to be sort of an expert. She checked for signs of anything supernatural, but there was no earthy scent of death lingering, or sharp fangs hidden away between Elsa's perfect white teeth. There were no signs of rot or decay on her sister's hands, and though she hadn't said a word yet, Anna didn't expect her to suddenly let out some inhuman growling.

Elsa wasn't a vampire, or a zombie, or another undead creature. _What did you expect_? This supposed sister of hers turning to dust in front of her, returning to nothing but a memory? No. If this was Elsa, and Anna wanted to think it was true, that meant that she… had been alive all along.

Somehow, the vampire explanation seemed more likely.

"Anna?"

The officer's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He was a friendly, elderly gentleman with dark skin, and she instantly felt guilty for her silence. "Ah? Oh, yes, I'm- yeah! I'm listening!" She bit her lip and added a quick 'sir' after her words, remembering her manners.

Manners. The manners her mother had tried to teach her, along with so many other things. The thought of her mother made her eyes burn, but Anna wouldn't cry now. She'd done her fair share of crying, at the funeral, when even the chocolate cake after left a nasty taste in her mouth. She glanced at Gerda, who'd been there for her after her parents' accident, who'd hugged her even if Anna desired her own mother's arms more.

Kai gave her a nod, his face solemn, wordlessly encouraging her to stay strong. Anna cleared her throat and waited for the policeman to break their silence.

"Anna," he began dutifully, realizing she didn't have an appetite for starting a conversation. "I need you to be honest with me, please. Is this woman your sister?"

Anna's eyes found Elsa's, making eye-contact for the first time in forever. Okay, maybe the light that had been in Elsa's eyes before had dimmed, but Anna recognized the shine, the familiar shade of blue cold as ice.

And for the first time in twelve years, Elsa spoke to her.

"I'm sorry."

The words were few, and not even close to enough, but they would do for now. If there was anything Anna remembered, it was how Elsa always seemed to apologize, even when they were kids. Had they been caught trying to steal chocolate out of dad's secret cabinet? 'I'm sorry'. Receiving a scolding for laughing so hard past bad time? 'I'm sorry'. Hell, even when Anna used to run through their old house's big halls like a chaotic mini-racecar and she'd bump into Elsa along the way, it was still Elsa who apologized for absolutely nothing.

Anna nodded, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "That's Elsa, I'm sure."

The officer nodded, almost in relief. "Good. Please, take a seat if you want, and feel free to make yourself a drink. The machine can give you tea, hot chocolate, and three types of coffee." He gave Elsa a curt nod and held his hand out for Anna to shake. "I'll give you folks some privacy. It seems you have a lot to discuss."

Anna hummed in reply, answering his handshake. When the officer had shaken Kai and Gerda's hands too, he kept his promise of leaving the room, and Anna found herself alone with her sister and her parents' oldest friends. She tried to make eye-contact with Elsa again, but her sister, who already sat at the small table, kept her eyes on a plate of dry cookies in front of her.

"You look amazing," Anna said as she sat down in the chair opposite of Elsa, Kai and Gerda taking place at her side. "I mean, not in a weird way or something. I just mean that, uh… most people who come back from the dead don't look so… you."

Elsa startled out of her thoughts at the sound of Anna's voice, the nails of her left hand clawing at the table. She looked up, perhaps intending to meet Anna's gaze again, but she failed, her eyes wandering between Anna and Kai and Gerda with a restless unease, observing the three people she faced now after twelve years of total silence.

There was fear in those cold eyes, Anna noticed as she took a cookie from the plate and put it in her mouth. It tasted dry and bland, and she wondered if the police couldn't do any better. _Right. Police_. Elsa, sitting in front of her with that anxious expression, looked awfully like a criminal being interrogated by a bunch of tough cops.

"I wasn't dead." She said it so softly Anna almost couldn't hear it, folding her hands together.

"We can see that," Kai replied, his voice as neutral as he could keep it. How did he and Gerda feel about this? Of course, Elsa hadn't been _t__heir_ daughter, but Anna knew how much her parents' most trusted friends had always cared about her and her sister. Were they angry at Elsa for coming-back   
-from-the-dead-but-not-quite, out of nowhere? Were they happy to have their little girl back again? Were they proud of who Elsa had become, whoever that person may have been?

Anna couldn't tell. She hadn't even figured out how she herself felt about all of it.

"What happened to you? Where have you _b__een_?" Gerda asked the question before Anna could do so herself. Unlike Kai, she was less in control of her emotions; her voice quivered, betraying her. There was surprise in that voice, and anger, happiness and sadness, the whole goddamn emotional spectrum in two simple sentences. And affection, god, so much affection even Elsa seemed taken aback for a while, as if she'd forgotten the meaning of the word 'love'.

"Most of that is classified, I'm afraid." Elsa spoke more surely now, having found courage somewhere. She stirred the drink she had to have poured herself before Anna's arrival, took a sip and pulled a face. "Ugh. Cold."

Was she complaining about a drink, right now, in this moment? Anna almost couldn't believe her ears.

"Classified?" Kai asked, frowning.

Elsa nodded and took another sip. "I'm sorry." Another apology for yet another atrocity. Except this time, Elsa actually had something to apologize for. Faking your death and disappearing for twelve years certainly demanded an apology in Anna's book.

"I'd tell you if I could," Elsa continued, downing her coffee in one go and shifting her gaze to glare at her empty cup. "But I'm not allowed to. The only person I can tell is Anna, and only if she decides to…" she didn't finish the sentence.

Anna knew what she meant. "Only if I decide to stay with you."

Elsa nodded, fingers tapping a rhythm on the wood of the table. "It's up to you, really. I'll accept whatever decision you make."

In the end, it all came down to decisions. Decisions spelled out the future, every last one, though some more than others. The decision to skip breakfast today hadn't impacted Anna's life in any way, though she did feel hungry now (those cookies held no nutritional value whatsoever). Her parents' decision to visit their friends in Sweden, though, had led to a whirlwind of consequences. If only they hadn't stepped into their car on that fateful night, if only they hadn't hugged her goodbye and left, they would not have had an accident and they would still be alive. And if they had remained alive, Elsa would have stayed somewhere in the shadows, playing no role in Anna's life whatsoever.

But life had other plans. Because _somehow_, Elsa Arens found out about her parents' tragic death within hours after it happened, and if what Anna had been told wasn't a lie, she'd appeared at the police station in Bergen at the early hour of 4 A.M., claiming to be Anna's older sister who did not mind if she got custody. And of course Anna had been informed of this, along with Kai and Gerda who had taken care of her in the days following the deaths of Agdar and Idun Arens, but she hadn't attached much hope to it. Elsa was dead, and nothing could change that.

Except she wasn't dead. The Elsa in front of her turned out to be very much real, against all expectations.

And Anna had a chance to live with her.

"Classified or not, you owe us an explanation," Anna stated, "whether I choose to stay with you or not. Come on, you gotta understand! They told us you were dead, Elsa. They told us you got mauled by wolves when you ran away into the forest. There wasn't even much left of a body to be buried."

There hadn't been a body because Elsa was _alive_. How had Anna missed it? It took her a few seconds to realize she wasn't imagining it, but Elsa was laughing. _laughing_. Whatever had been the appropriate reaction, this was not it. "They told you… what?"

Kai narrowed his eyes. "Wolves," he repeated, his tone sharp.

"Mauled by wolves? That's a good one." Elsa picked at her empty plastic coffeecup. "Next time I'm faking my death, I'll go with trampled by moose."

"There won't be a next time," Anna said, sounding more agressive than she'd intended. Elsa fell silent. There had been a twinkling in her eyes when she'd made her severely inappropriate joke, Anna noticed, but while she'd missed that twinkle earlier, she didn't find herself enjoying its presence now.

"I'm sorry," Elsa said. Apology hundred, with many still to come. "It's not a matter to be taken lightly at all. Nobody ever bothered to tell me the wolf story, it seems."

Anna itched with questions, but no sound came out of her mouth. All she could do was stare at her sister as if she were an alien, a fictional character, a phantom taking shape in front of her. Elsa was real, Elsa was here, Elsa, the last family member she still had, wanted to take her in. All Anna had to do was say the words.

"Like I said," Elsa began after a pause, "I know a lot has been going on these days, but I hope all of you can forgive me. For not coming to the funeral, for running away, and everything inbetween." She sighed. "You don't have to, though. If you chose to turn away and never look at me again, I'd understand, and I'd leave you alone."

Anna blinked as her sister focused on her. "Kai and Gerda are wonderful people," Elsa continued, "and I'm sure they'll take great care of you. They'd probably do better than I ever could. But if you still believe in second chances like you used to, I'd… I'd like one. So my offer stands."

Anna looked at Kai, at Gerda, at Kai and back to Gerda again, like she was watching a slow-motion tennis match. Gerda placed an affectionate hand on Anna's, and while Kai remained more stoic, he gave her a soft glance and the tiniest nod.

She understood. It was her choice, and hers alone.

Elsa leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling, still absent-mindedly picking at her cup, tearing the object apart some more with every movement of her fingers. Anna studied her face, the one she'd known so well once, the one that had changed so much she couldn't read it anymore.

It made her more curious than she'd ever been before.

Of course, staying with Kai and Gerda would be amazing. If Anna chose them, she could stay in Bergen, keep living her old life, even if the ache of her parents' death remained. She could still go out with friends on weekends, she could go to her own school for her final year when summer break was over, and Gerda was the most talented cook Anna had met in her life. It could be ideal, the future the couple accompanying her here today could offer her: free of problems, sorrows, worries and other inconveniences. Free of answers.

In front of her sat a woman who had all the answers. Elsa Arens, Anna's sister who ran away and never returned until now, who came back from the dead as if it was nothing. Her sister who, for some reason, decided to show interest in her only now, her sister who could offer her an entirely new life.

Maybe it wouldn't be as free of problems and sorrows as her life with Kai and Gerda would be. Living with Elsa would mean a new city, new school, new friends. New life. And above all, Elsa could give Anna answers to the questions she'd held inside ever since she'd learned her older sibling was alive. How hard would it be to sacrifice her old life if it meant a chance at rebuilding the relationship with the sister she'd once been so close with? If things turned south, Anna would be eighteen next year anyway, so she could move out as an adult if she wanted to.

Gerda squeezed her hand lightly. Anna made her choice.

"I still believe in second chances, sis. I'll accept your offer."

Elsa smiled, a familiar smile, a smile that felt the same as it had twelve years ago. Elsa's smile wasn't big or flashy, but more subtle and in the background, always, and yet it was as beautiful as the rest of her. Anna drank that smile in and decided to cherish it; it didn't appear often, after all. _No vampire teeth in it, at least._

"Thank you," Elsa said, standing up to throw what remained of her plastic cup in the trash. "I'll do my best to make sure you won't regret it."

Had it been the right choice? Anna couldn't tell, not even when she found herself in the backseat of Kai's car again, letting him drive her home so she could pack her bags. The Elsa she'd met today was different from the one she'd remembered, yes, and Anna hadn't been able to decide if it was a good or a bad kind of different. The only thing she knew for sure, was that she yearned to learn more about this new Elsa.

'There is nothing permanent except change.' A quote she remembered from her Philosophy class. It was a Greek dude who said it, not Heracles but definitely a Hera-something, and Anna had buried it somewhere far away in the depths of her brain when she didn't need the knowledge anymore. She'd gotten a 3+ for the test, so she was content. She couldn't pinpoint exactly why this particular quote resurfaced in her mind, but it had to have something to do with the many sudden changes in her life. All it did was serve to remind Anna Arens that she was taking her first step into the unknown.

But she wouldn't be taking that step alone, right? Elsa, her sister, would be there too, taking that same step. Though Anna knew nothing about Elsa and her life anymore, this had to be a major change for her too. It baffled Anna to think about it; Elsa had never approached her in twelve years, and now that their parents were gone, she appeared out of nowhere to ask if Anna was interested in living with her.

_Why_?

While packing her bags, Anna thought about it long and hard, without finding an answer. She'd have to ask Elsa about it in the car later, she figured as she searched her bookshelf for her favourite romance novels. She'd bring those, of course, along with enough clothes, the small stash of chocolate she kept under her bed, and a few knick-knacks that reminded her of home: a bottle of her mother's perfume, a particularly interesting blue rock her father had given her (troll rock, he'd called it), and a picture book of her family and friends she'd made last year. Her fingers traced its cover, and she remembered there were pictures of Elsa in it too, pictures in which she was still the smiling child Anna had known once.

Maybe she'd show Elsa someday. For now, she placed the little book with her other possessions worth taking (she was growing too old for the movie posters on her bedroom walls anyway), and she took her bags downstairs with a little help from Kai.

"Are you sure?" He asked with caution. He didn't mean to insult her good judgement, of course. She understood his worry; though Elsa wasn't just anyone, it still _felt _like he was giving her away to a stranger.

Anna nodded, blessing him with a small smile. "She's my sister. She'd never hurt me."

Kai hummed in approval and opened the front door to go outside, but the look in his eyes showed the slightest hint of doubt, as if he wanted to believe Anna's words but couldn't.

They found Gerda in the yard with Elsa, discussing… whatever they had to discuss. There were so many options, Anna didn't bother going through them all. When Gerda spotted her husband and her sort-of-daughter, she rushed over to help with the luggage while Elsa remained where she stood, leaning against the wooden fence.

When they placed her bags in the trunk of Elsa's car, Anna couldn't help but yawn. It was still early in the morning, even though the summer sun already shone, and in the days between the accident and now, Anna had not managed to get a whole lot of sleep. She hoped the last days of summer break would be a little more relaxing and studied Elsa, searching for an indication that there would be trouble.

There was nothing. Of course not. Elsa was a master at keeping her emotions in check. When she asked Anna if she was ready to go, there was nothing in her voice that betrayed anything. No excitement, no annoyance; only the slightest hint of doubt, as if she only now realized that this was really happening. Other than that, there was nothing.

"Remember to call us every now and then," Gerda reminded her as she pulled Anna into a hug. It dawned on her that this was really goodbye. "I gave Elsa our number too, so she can keep us updated, but it would be nice to… it would be nice to hear your own voice sometimes."

Anna nodded, blinking away a few tears. She didn't regret her decision, not yet, but she'd always hated goodbyes. It reminded her of her parents, who'd left for Sweden a week ago and never came back.

When Gerda released her, Kai slung an arm around her shoulder and squeezed lightly. "You'll be okay," he told her, "and you're always welcome here." His eyes travelled up to meet Elsa's. "Both of you."

Elsa gave a weak nod. "Thank you." Surprise crossed her face when she found herself embraced by Gerda too; she hadn't been expecting that, of course not, Anna hadn't foreseen it either. She reminded herself that Elsa had been Gerda's little girl as much as Anna was, and it had to break her heart to let both of them go again, right when she'd gotten Elsa back out of the blue.

"You'll do fine," Gerda said as she freed Elsa from her embrace. Elsa blinked a few times, still surprised at the development, but she regained her composure quickly.

"I won't disappoint you."

Anna never figured out who her sister had said those words too, but she didn't mind. She wondered what the neighbours would think if they could see this now. _J__ust the bubbly orphan girl and her dead sister saying goodbye._ It sounded like a scene from an awful American comedy show.

"It's a seven-hour drive to Oslo, if we're lucky," Elsa said. "That is, if we don't stop anywhere and there won't be any complications with the traffic. We should go."

"Alright." Anna gave Kai and Gerda a final wave and sat down in the passenger's seat of Elsa's car. It felt surreal. She watched Kai and Gerda's figures grow smaller and smaller as Elsa drove away from them, watched her home grow tiny like a speck of dust, until there was nothing left and all she could still see were the road behind her and the pine trees around it.

A seven-hour drive with Elsa. That would be fun.

"You must have a lot of questions," Elsa said, her eyes stuck to the road. "If you want to ask, you can. You should."

Anna snorted. "A lot of questions is an understatement." A million questions bubbled in her mind, waiting to be pushed to the surface and out of her mouth. And yet, she couldn't find one to start with. There was so much she didn't know, so much information she wanted, but none of her questions seemed important enough to ask. In the end, they all came down to the same: 'who are you?'

"Why did you leave?" She settled for the obvious question, the one she'd asked herself since she was five. Even when under the impression that Elsa had died, there was still a _reason_; Anna remembered, clearly, how Elsa had looked that night she'd went into the woods all alone with no plan of returning.

Elsa sighed. "That's the one question I can't answer right now. I'll answer it someday, I promise, but all I can say for now is that it… was for the best. Yeah."

It would be so very easy to yell at her. It wasn't like Anna wanted to be angry with her sister, of course not; but she deserved answers, right now, she'd been waiting for so long it made her physically sick. She was about to give Elsa a piece of her mind, when a more rational voice in the back of her head told her not to: if Anna got pissed right now, Elsa might close up and refuse to answer any other question flung in her direction. Anna had enough of those to squeeze out at least one satisfying answer, and she had all the time in the world.

"Fine," she said. "Is it okay to ask why you returned now?"

Why was Anna so important now, when Elsa didn't seem to care before? It puzzled her, from the moment she'd been informed of her sister's random appearance in Bergen.

"I don't know." Elsa gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I could've gone back before. Maybe I should've done so. At least I… at least I would've had a chance to talk to them before they died if I did."

Agdar and Idun Arens. Elsa's parents as much as Anna's. And still Anna had buried them alone.

"But I guess I was just… scared of going back. And after the accident, I… I don't know. I had to at least talk to you."

Anna nodded, somewhat satisfied with the answer. It sounded truthful enough, but it still felt incomplete; it didn't mean much if she didn't know why Elsa had left in the first place. And to figure that out, Anna would have to wait, annoying as it may be. It was stupid, but she realized pushing Elsa wouldn't get her anywhere; all she could do was try to bring up some patience and hope for the best. Elsa had promised, after all.

"When Gerda asked you where you'd been, you said it was classified. Tell me about that." It had been a pretty cryptic comment, but Anna knew it hadn't been a joke.

"My job. It's complicated."

"Could you tell me about it?"

"Only if you swear to keep it a secret, like it's supposed to be. I'm actually not allowed to tell anyone about it, so the higher-ups had to give me special permission. It could endanger everything." Elsa grimaced. "And if you say a word to the wrong person, both of us are done for." She said it as casual as can be, as if she was only giving Anna instructions on what to buy for dinner.

Anna mentally sighed, wondering if all of Elsa's 'answers' would only lead to more questions.

She made a gesture like she was zipping her mouth shut. "I'll keep your secrets, but please, tell me now or I'm going to explode."

Elsa closed her eyes for a bit. "Okay. So the organization I work for is… secret. It has ties with several governments, including the Norwegian one, but it's as independent as it gets. Anyone who knows about it can assign, well, _assignments_ to us, and it will be taken care of." She paused and looked up, trying to figure out how to continue. "Most clients ask for intelligence. That's what I provide. I give them the information I can get my hands on. But there are some more… shady assignments too. If you need someone dead, it's… all you have to do is ask."

Alright. That was quite a story.

Anna nodded, soaking up the information. "So what you're saying is, you're basically a super-spy for a shady organization that's a cross between MI6- you know, from James Bond? You gotta have seen at least one movie, you can't be a spy _without_ having seen James bond-"

"Anna. I know who James Bond is and on top of that, MI6 exists. Please just go on."

"So, like, a cross between MI6 and the Italian Maffia. Does that sound right?"

Elsa sighed. "It's not goddamn Cosa Nostra."

"Then, pray tell, what's your supershady secret service called?"

Anna had not expected a shrug. "It doesn't have a name. I mean, I guess we call it the Company, but mostly because it's convenient. That name doesn't raise a lot of questions if you say it in a conversation."

"Makes sense, I guess?"

Elsa pulled a face. "Why do you just… _believe_ all of this?"

Anna frowned. "Wait, hold up. Are you lying to me?"

She could see her sister tense up. "Of course not. But it's… weird. I told you I'm a 'super-spy', like you called it, and you… I don't see how you go along with it like it's _nothing_."

It was Anna's turn to shrug. "I thought you were dead, but you came back. Nothing surprises me anymore right now. You could tell me you were secretly headmistress of Hogwarts and I'd believe you."

"Seriously?"

"Perhaps. Besides, that weird… sort of government job of yours does explain why the police _lied_ to us about your death. Fuck, you were smart for an eight-year-old, but not smart enough to fake your death and disappear all on your own."

Elsa moved her hand to her heart as if she'd been stabbed. "That hurts, you know? But you're right. And the reason I even got a chance to take you in was Company courtesy." She paused. "Because let's face it: if you were a cop, and you'd have to give a seventeen-year-old orphan girl a new home, you wouldn't give her to her estranged sister she hasn't talked to in twelve years. No one in their right mind would do that, unless there were very special circumstances."

Anna nodded, leaning back in her seat. "Okay. My sister faked her death to become female James Bond. I get it."

"I didn't _leave_ for that reason," Elsa said with a sharp voice. "It… it happened. Some things _happen,_ alright?"

Anna put her hands up. "I wasn't going to say anything! There's no need to get all defensive on me."

Elsa shook her head. Somehow, Anna got the feeling their conversation was over. "I want coffee. Something better than the stuff they had at the station. You might want to start thinking about what _y__ou_ want."

She didn't start a conversation again. They drove in total silence for around ten minutes, ten slow minutes full of agony._There's the awkwardness you expected_. Anna wished she could turn on the radio, any song would do, if only it could clear the tension and lighten her mood. There was no way to know how Elsa would react to it, though, and Anna didn't want to take the risk. And, if she had to be honest, she felt tired. Her lack of sleep was catching up to her, the swaying movements of Elsa's car making her eyes grow heavy, like her mother's lullabies had done back when she was a little girl with no fear for the future, when Elsa was still there with her.

Another five minutes later, Elsa stopped in a town they'd passed for a cup of coffee. Anna ordered a muffin (Elsa paid), but she didn't enjoy it much with the uncomfortable silence leaning over them. Elsa did not look her in the eyes. Why not?

What did Anna want from her? Yet another apology? More answers she may or may not have been ready for? The story of the life she hadn't been a big part of? Or did she want Elsa to ask about _her_ life, to show some interest, any indication at all that she hadn't simply forgotten her younger sister, written her off as a mere silhouette from a worthless past?

Anna didn't know what she wanted. So when she stepped into Elsa's car again, headed for the unknown, she closed her eyes and let the car lull her to sleep. It didn't seem to bother Elsa anyway.

She didn't remember much of what she'd dreamt. There had been a car, an accident, and she recalled snow. Whatever. It lost its importance when she felt the car stop, having reached its destination. Elsa shook her shoulder, in a way Anna could only describe as gentle. "We're here."

Anna got out, taking in the twilight surrounding her, breathing the air of Norway's capital. She'd never actually _been _to Oslo. Sure, she'd wanted to visit, but it was a long drive and she didn't have a reason to go until now. Now it had to become her home.

She smiled to herself. It would turn out fine in the end; she truly wanted to believe that. It would be fun, or, she told herself, she'd create her own fun. The unknown wasn't so scary if you chose to believe it wasn't. She'd do her best to rebuild her relationship with her sister, she'd make more friends, and she'd figure out every single detail of whatever Elsa's life had become. A solid plan, if she could make it work.

"You own an apartment?"

What a question. When Anna looked around, she could clearly see that she stood in the middle of the parking lot of a large apartment building. It was greyish, colourless like most of the apartment buildings she'd seen, but it looked tidy and clean.

"No. That's why we're at an apartment building."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Hilarious. Didn't you say you'd answer my questions?"

A small smirk appeared on Elsa's face as they approached the entrance of the building. "I did. You got an answer, didn't you?"

Anna laughed. "Okay, you got me."

Elsa had changed, that was clear to her. Her sister wasn't the little girl Anna remembered, but in the way Elsa had sassed her, she saw traces of the sister she'd always loved. So maybe Elsa had changed, some changes good and some bad, but deep down, she was still that same person Anna knew once. If Anna worked hard enough, she'd be able to bring that girl out again, she was sure of it.

As they reached the third floor of the building (the stairs tired Anna, but her sister didn't show any sign of trouble), Elsa halted without warning, grabbing Anna's sleeve. "Wait. Someone's at my door."

Anna followed Elsa's gaze, and sure enough, her sister was right. In front of a door that had to be Elsa's stood a tiny old man, clutching something white and furry in his arms. He adjusted his round little glasses with some expertise, glancing at his watch every other second with a haughty look. From what little Anna could see of him, he seemed like a man who considered himself rather important; one of those old men who liked lecturing kids and prided himself on his very exciting collection of stamps.

"Who's that?"

"My next-door neighbour, Mr. Weselton." Elsa said the words as if they were dirty. "Ignore him. He's a bit creepy."

Anna narrowed her eyes in amusement. "Are you scared of an old man wearing a toupet? _You_? My super-spy sister?"

Elsa motioned for her to keep quiet. "Don't shout that from the fucking rooftops, remember? And I'm not scared. He's just a major pain."

Anna stuck out her tongue, feeling bold. Elsa's neighbour, huh? Perhaps he would be able to tell her a few things about her sister. "I'll go and make his aquaintance."

She danced away from Elsa's grip before her sister could stop her and dashed in the man's direction. His sneaky little eyes darted from her to Elsa following behind with a look of contempt. Up close, Anna could see what he held in his arms: the little white bundle was a young kitten, pawing at the man's sleeves.

"Hello," Anna told him, "are you Mr. Weselton? I'm Elsa's sister, Anna Arens." She held out her hand with a smile. "I'm going to live with her, so we'll probably be seeing eachother around. Nice to meet you."

The man scoffed, ignoring her outstretched hand as if she hadn't washed her hands in years. He kept his own hands buried in his kitten's fur, stroking absentmindedly. "You're related to _that_?"

"Excuse me?"

Elsa walked past them, searching for her keys. "Forget it. What do you want?" The small man was still blocking her front door, and if Anna had to guess, it didn't amuse Elsa one bit.

Anna frowned, growing annoyed with the man. "I don't see why you talk about my sister as if she's some… _thing._"

"Oh, she's quite something," the man spat. "Always running around with that damned thug, and she doesn't have her cat under control either!"

Now that was something Anna could ponder. She'd have asked Weselton more if she hadn't considered him such an annoying little creature; even if Elsa was weird, Anna found it abhorrent how this neighbour spoke of her, and he'd treated Anna herself rudely too.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again," Elsa began, sounding like she'd indeed said this a thousand times and was growing tired of it. "There are hundreds of cats around here. You don't even _know_ if my cat is responsible for those kittens you got. You just want to get on my nerves."

Weselton's cheeks turned red. "Those kittens are your cat's!"

Elsa didn't do so much as blink. "Marvellous. I'll tell Marshmallow he needs to pay child support once every month. I'm sure it will go over well."

Anna quickly covered her hand with her mouth, trying to hide her laughter. Weselton puffed his chest out in a rather amusing attempt to make himself look intimidating, clutching his kitten tighter.

"Besides," Elsa continued, "I don't see why it's a problem to you. You've sold almost all of the kittens, didn't you? It's good money."

"But I've had to pay for all of their food by myself," Weselton whined. "Seeing as they're your kittens too, I want a compensation."

"Oh, so now _I _need to pay child support?"

Weselton nodded. "Call it whatever you want to call it."

Elsa's reply was cold as ice. It gave Anna shivers. "By that logic, you should share the profit you made off of those four kittens you sold with me. But you haven't. Why is that, Weselton? I mean, they're my kittens too, right?"

"But I never asked for them," he sputtered, "and nobody wants this kitten here. It's too small and sickly, and I refuse to pay for its food all by myself."

What an annoying little man. Anna studied Elsa's face, trying to discover what she was thinking. To her surprise, her eyes had lit up; there was an amused shine in them, the same one Anna used to see so often, whenever her sister came up with a particularly impish scheme.

"Anna," Elsa said, turning to her, "do you want a kitten?"

"I mean… Of course? Why?" Anna had never had a pet in her life, due to her mother's allergies. She wouldn't say no when offered a kitten, but she didn't understand why Elsa asked.

She was about to ask why, but Elsa had already shifted her attention back to her awful neighbour. "A suggestion, if I may. You can keep all the money you made from selling the kittens, but I'm taking this one. That way, you won't need to spend any more money on food. Problem solved."

How red could one man turn? Weselton's face resembled something of a juicy tomato as he glared daggers. "You can't-"

Elsa gave him an innocent smile, prying the kitten out of his short, weak arms. "Why not? Like I said, they're my kittens too."

She gave the creature to Anna, who cradled it in her arms. It really was a tiny creature, a weak little thing, all alone in the world. She immediately decided she would love and protect it until the end of its days and held it closer.

"I think we're done here," Elsa said, motioning for Weselton to step aside from her door. "Good evening, Mr. Weselton."

There was a finality in her voice that made Weselton obey. Realizing he'd lost his battle, he slouched away, hopping to his door as fast as his little legs could go. Anna watched him leave, all the way until he slammed his door behind him. Then, she turned her gaze to Elsa.

"Did you just talk him into giving us a kitten?"

Elsa stared at the keys in her hands, puzzled. "I think so?"

The kitten gave a meow, as soft as its fur and as tiny as its body. Anna replied with an involuntary 'aww', scratching its chin lightly as Elsa opened the door.

"What are you going to call it? It's your present, after all."

Anna kicked the door closed with her foot and thought about this question for a minute. Such a sweet animal needed a special name, a name that meant something to her, a perfect start of her new life. It had single-handedly turned the unknown into something adorable, and its efforts had to be commemorated. She scoured her memories, trying to find a name of some significance.

Elsa didn't wait for an answer. She took off her coat and sauntered over to the large and fat white cat which had entered the entrance hall. "Hey there," she told it. "We got some company today. My sister, and a kitten too. He may or may not be your son, so be nice."

_So my super-spy sister still talks to animals. _Anna smiled at the realization; As a child, Elsa had a habit of talking to animals as if they were people every now and then. Anna had picked up on it soon enough, imitating her big sister in everything, and even when she'd considered Elsa to be dead and gone, the habit stuck. She still remembered the look on her friends' faces when they caught her talking to a stray dog once, when they were playing in the snow.

_Snow_?

Elsa used to love snow. Every winter, Anna remembered, they built snowmen together. They'd made a sport out of it: 'how many snowmen can we make in the garden until dad comes home from work?' Their father would come home in the evening to a small army of snowmen awaiting him, standing guard at his gates, and he would laugh about it all night because Agdar Arens loved snow too.

The first snowman Anna made with Elsa was the most special. Well, technically Elsa made it, because Anna had been far too young to contribute anything but audio commentary while her sister worked, but Elsa had still said it was _their _snowman. Anna loved the snow creature her sister made, even though it was cold; she loved its button eyes and bent branch arms, loved it even if it had no nose. "What's its name?" She had asked, and Elsa thought for a second and came up with one.

"Olaf," Anna said. "The kitten's name. It's Olaf."

Elsa looked up and stared into the distance for a bit, remembering. It warmed Anna's heart to know Elsa hadn't forgotten; it proved that her sister hadn't erased her from her memories altogether. Perhaps she still cared, and maybe, she hadn't changed that much after all.

"I love it." Elsa nodded ever so slightly and turned her attention to Marshmallow again. "You hear that? He's Olaf. And he's family, so we're going to take care of him, okay? We're going to make sure he'll have the time of his life."

Anna smiled, clutching Olaf more tightly. She'd doubted her decision to stay with Elsa before, but now she allowed herself to think she'd made the right choice, if only for today.

~~

Mr. Frollo didn't normally dislike being chased by girls.

He'd been called a dirty old priest many times. Every time, he had to remind whoever made the comment that he wasn't actually a priest anymore. After his first scandal, he had given up on the profession, turning to a darker side of life which allowed him to do whatever his heart desired.

Most of the time, his heart desired young girls.

So maybe the girls didn't do much chasing themselves these days. He had to pay most of them to share his bed, but he had accepted that fate. He had grown older, past his prime, and he did not look like the Adonis he'd thought himself to be in his youth anymore. Gone were the days in which he could get any girl he wanted; all he needed to do now was count his coins and spend them.

Nevertheless, he did like to chase the girls he desired whenever he found himself in a bar, his senses dimmed by the taste of alcohol. Oh, how they hated it: often, his objects of affection chewed him out, disgusted by his advances, claiming he was nothing but an old pervert, and they'd laugh at him with their friends or take a cab straight home. No, being chased after by women didn't happen a lot these days.

There was a girl chasing him now, though.

With a gun.

Frollo panted and wheezed, wondering how long it would take for his old lungs to give up. His legs burned with every short step he took, his muscles aching. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, soaked through his clothes, and the girl was still hot on his tail.

"Would you stop fleeing already? I only want to talk!"

He'd endured almost ten minutes of this mockery now, ten very long minutes. Oh, the women would have gotten him by now if she'd put an effort in the chase. She kept up with him with the ease those well-trained youths still possessed, and from what he'd read about her, very few people knew how to handle a gun as well as she did. She could've caught him by now if she'd given it a little more, but no; she had to humiliate him like this, make him think he still had a chance at life. And now he'd been running for ten minutes, running through dark alleys with no destination, all to make his life last a little longer.

"You need to tell me something, priest!"

He would've corrected her if his lungs hadn't been close to bursting from his chest. All he could still do was wheeze, ignoring his pain, praying to the God he'd once worshipped for a merciful end.

A sharp pain shot through him as the woman tackled him to the ground, his face colliding with the hard pavement. He used his scraped hands to push himself up, with great difficulty, but the girl placed a foot on his back to keep him down. Frollo didn't struggle, out of energy and motivation; he'd seen the end before it began.

He tried not too think to much about the cold gun pressed against his temple.

"Okay, priest. We're going to have a little chat."

He turned his head slighty, in a slow way, so the woman wouldn't be alarmed. He stared at her, a silhouette illuminated by moonlight. Her grey jacket was torn and ripped, the hood pulled up to shroud her face in shadows, but Frollo could make out a wild mess of red curls and annoyed blue eyes staring right through him.

The redhaired woman pushed down on him harder. "Are you listening? You better be listening. I want you to answer my questions honestly. Reasonable, right?"

Frollo nodded, not bothering to hide his anxiety. If he could tell her what she wanted to hear, he would have a chance to go back home. He'd request a girl be brought to him, so he could lose himself and forget the night's events, and he would never think about the redhaired woman again.

"I'm looking for a friend who went missing a few weeks back. Do you know anything about that? She's got this long blonde hair, she's always way too cheerful, and she doesn't know how to shut up about her boyfriend. Seen anyone who fits that description?"

Frollo shook his head. "N-no," he stuttered, almost frozen in fear, cursing his own cowardice. It wasn't even a lie; there was a chance his boss knew something about this missing girl, but he had not been informed of any such thing. He had been given a different assignment, an assignment he'd then passed on to two of his subordinates. The worst decision he'd ever made; if he'd chosen two more competent people, the redhaired woman wouldn't be threatening his life now.

"I don't believe you." Her voice was low and dangerous as she put some more pressure on his back. Frollo bit back a scream, gritting his teeth. "Because I've been looking into her disappearance for a while now, and out of the blue, two guys try to abduct me. A shame, to be honest. Tore my jacket up real good, and it's my favourite jacket. They gave me your name before they died." She pressed the gun against his head harder. "So tell me, priest. There has to be a correlation in there somewhere."

"I don't know," Frollo almost cried out. "I'm a disgraced priest, nothing more, I swear! I didn't mean you any harm! I still don't! You're one of the keys to the Catalyst, of course we wouldn't hurt you!"

The woman frowned. "Keys are for doors, mate. If you're not gonna talk, I'll shut you up forever."

"Please!" Frollo begged. He'd have gotten on his knees if he hadn't been trapped, forced to lie on cold hard ground. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you what you want to know, but please, spare me! I never hurt you!"

He _h__ad _sent his subordinates to abduct her, but she'd never been in real danger, _damn_ _it_, why didn't she understand? If he'd done her any harm, his boss would have killed him. Though Frollo hadn't been given any details, the higher-ups had told him how important this woman was, how big a role she played in their masterplan. All he'd had to do was bring her in unharmed.

He'd failed, and now he wouldn't escape unharmed himself.

"Spare you?" The woman laughed. "I won't lose any sleep over killing you, believe me. I've done my research, I know who you are. So many scandals, so many accusations. Sex trafficking, prostitution, everything inbetween. World's better off when you're dead and gone. Mr. Frollo, hasn't anyone ever taught you to keep your hands off of children?"

Cold sweat seeped down his forehead, mixing with the blood from his wounds. "Please," he croaked one last time, "I beg you! Remember Company protocol, for the love of God and all that's holy! No killing if it can be avoided, right? Rehabilitation, that's what this country believes in…"

His voice trailed off as he studied the woman's bored expression. "Norwegians are too soft," she said slowly, "and this is no Company assignment, mate. I'm doing this all in my own free time. And in my own free time, I like to fix my problems the Scottish way."

Frollo gulped. "And what is the 'Scottish way'?"

The woman flashed him a smirk. "Oh," she said, as if it was nothing special, "a bullet through your brain."

The last thing he saw were those unnerving blue eyes staring at him with that bored expression, as if the redhaired woman cared more about her ruined jacket than Frollo's life.

And the world turned black.


	2. Chapter 2: The old and the new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna tries to find her way through both her school and her sister's peculiar life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna start this nice 'n easy, after all that chaos in the last chapter.

"Anna, why don't you tell us something about yourself?"

The teacher's voice snapped her out of her daydream. She blinked a few times, glanced around the classroom to make sure she was really there instead of trapped in some sort of illusion. She found around thirty pairs of eyes staring at her, or through her, or fixed on the teacher as if to ask: 'when's class over?' The only gaze not pulled to her belonged to a big guy in the back of the room, who sat munching on a carrot, plastic bag of them on his lap, complete with '35% off'-sticker. If it hadn't been their final year, the teacher might have called him out; now he could do as he pleased.

Anna was grateful. At least one person was more interested in his food than her tragic past. She scratched the back of her neck. "Well, my name is Anna, but you already knew that," she said, trying to keep her nerves out of her voice. What could she say? What was classified and what was not? And most importantly, what did she _want_ these people to know about her?

Her sister's face resurfaced in her mind. If Elsa had been here, she'd have known what to say. She was a fucking _spy_, of course she could handle talking in front of all these strangers, staring at her with expectant eyes, as if trying to decide if she was some kind of messiah or simply a smelly hobo. Anna didn't want to admit it, but those looks scared her; if she went out on the streets wearing a 19th-century dress in this day and age, she'd get the same ones.

"I'm from Bergen. I... lost my parents two weeks ago," she continued, swallowing the sudden lump forming in her throat. She accepted the few mumbled condolences, spoken by a few new classmates who'd been touched by her situation, and forced herself to smile. "But it's okay, I think. I moved to Oslo to live with my sister, and, well… that's how I got here."

She left out how she'd thought Elsa was dead until the accident, didn't bother specifying anything else about her sister and her life either. There was no time to to go unpack all of that, and it was classified, and if Anna was honest with herself, what could she possibly say about Elsa? That she seemed to have a talent for deceiving tiny old men for kittens?

So she chose to keep her mouth shut, keeping her smile plastered on her face, eyes drifting through the room, trying to figure out what all those eyes saw when they looked at her. The boy in the back phished another carrot out of his bag, biting into it with the same disinterest as before. Anna wondered why he hadn't opted to sneak chocolate into class instead.

Her teacher's voice came as a relief, a salvation, as if she were being freed from a prison. So much for a good first day at her new school.

"Thank you, Anna. We'll make sure your final year will be worth remembering. You may pick a seat."

Anna had to do her best not to sigh in relief. She walked through the classroom in search of an empty spot, muttering hasty apologies as she bumped into the occasional table, but not bothering to pay attention to the bruises. She considered plopping down next to Carrot Guy, but decided against it; someone who ate carrots in class didn't strike her as a people-person. Her eyes found an empty seat next to a friendly-looking girl with dark skin.

"Can I sit here?" Anna whispered, almost as if she expected the girl to bite.

"It _is_ an empty seat," the girl replied in a similar hushed tone, patting the table next to her. "And the old man told you to take a seat."

Anna took that as a 'yes' and dropped her bag next to her new table, trying to not make too much noise as she took her seat. She fixed her eyes on the teacher, but the girl's eyes kept digging into her side.

"I'm Moana," the girl said, soft enough to not be heard by the teacher, who had started doing what he was being paid for: teaching. "If you need anything, you can ask me, or someone else. Most people here are nice."

"Thanks," Anna replied with a small smile. "People always say I'm nice too, so I'll fit right in."

Anna had never had much trouble settling into a new situation. It had always been Elsa who struggled to adapt, whether it had been an uncomfortable birthday party filled with unknown aquaintances, or a simple change in dinner plans. Anna never knew what she got so worked up about; if you didn't know anyone, you had to make an effort to get to know the people around you so they would no longer be strangers, and if dinner wasn't to your liking, you had to accept it and eat anyway, if only to make it through the day.

No, Anna was able to turn the situations she found herself in into her own. Even if she had no control over her surroundings, or the people who entered her short life story, she did her best to make the most of what was given to her. When her parents died two weeks ago, Anna had grieved, mourned their loss, cried with everyone else who cared, everyone except Elsa, and when the time was right, she'd accepted what happened and decided to start anew with a sister she didn't know. She was confident that, if she put enough effort and affection into it, she could mold this classroom, this city, her sister's apartment, into something that felt like home.

She drowned out the sound of the teacher's voice (English had never been her favourite class), and thought back to the last week of summer break, the week she'd spent trying to figure out who Elsa was. Her efforts hadn't paid off much. Her initial plan had been talking to Elsa a lot, but her sister worked often, and when she did get home early, she was often tired. Anna had tried prying information out of a sleep-deprived Elsa, but the only thing she'd learnt from that was that her older sibling was not the biggest talker.

Anna had had to come up with a plan B: observing, asking the right questions, and connecting whichever puzzle pieces she could find. She'd allowed herself to feel proud when she realized that would make her something of a spy too, and dedicated her days to figuring out whatever she could.

Yesterday in particular had been interesting. Elsa had been home later than usual, around midnight, and Anna had ignored her when she asked why the younger girl was still up. Anna had inquired about her sister's day instead, and Elsa had mumbled something about 'finishing some business with a gang in Helsinki', as if every person in Norway took an occasional whirlwind trip to Finland to mingle with the local underworld. Her sister had gone straight to sleep after that, and the incident had left Anna even more curious than before.

When Anna had been bored at home, the home in which Elsa had been dead, she'd always find something to do, ranging from riding her bike down the stairs to talking to the paintings and pictures on the walls. Without Elsa around to talk to, Anna found herself more bored than ever before, alone in a city with no one she knew. Riding a bike in this tiny apartment was out of the question, and Elsa's walls were devoid of any pictures and paintings. It was all quite Spartan, her sister's home, with nothing indicating connections to anyone or anything, not a single trinket to hint at any interests or loved ones, not even a picture of Marshmallow. Anna wondered if it was a safety precaution, or if Elsa didn't have pictures because she… didn't have anyone.

Talking to the pictures in her picturebook, according to Anna, was one step too far, so she had to find a new source of amusement. There had to be something she could fill her days with, besides waiting for Elsa and talking to old friends and Gerda on the phone. So Anna had turned her own little spy mission, Operation Elsa, into something of a game. Every day when she found herself alone, she snooped all over the apartment, Olaf clutched in her arms and Marshmallow trailing behind her as if she were searching for treats to give him.

Oh, she'd dug up some interesting things. She'd found a soggy cardboard box in a cupboard, containing two dozens of fake IDs, each name listed more ridiculous than the last. It had contained a few pairs of gloves too, money that Anna suspected was counterfeit, and a notebook, filled to the brim with names (fake?), addresses, and miscellaneous information relating to whatever assignment Elsa had been working on, all penned down neatly in a cursive more elegant than Anna remembered. She'd also found a small hoard of chocolate bars not too far away from that box, the location of which she memorised for future reference.

But other than that, Elsa's life seemed as empty as the walls of her apartment. Anna had gone as far as to take a look in her bedroom; Elsa would kill her if she ever found out, but Anna would take that risk. It had been rather anticlimatic, though, for Elsa's room had been no different from any other bedroom, albeit as Spartan as the rest of her apartment: a bed, made in an almost profesional way, not a wrinkled sheet to be found, a wardrobe which contained a lot of sweaters but no secret passageways, and an empty desk without any convenient, forgotten papers strewn about it. A bedroom, nothing more. Whatever Anna had expected, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

If it hadn't all been so _classified_, Anna could ask the girl next to her for her thoughts, her advice. No such luck. Anna would have to figure Elsa Arens out all by herself, unless she managed to get in contact with someone her sister was close with. Small chance, she thought to herself. Elsa seemed as introverted as she'd been as a child, perhaps even more now, and if she had any kind of social life, Anna supposed she would have found at least _one_ clue by now.

That, or she had to accept that she was a shitty spy. Could asking Elsa to teach her how spy stuff worked bring her closer to the truth?

She startled out of her thoughts when Moana's fingers brushed over her sleeve. "Anna," she whispered sharply, "Fitzgerald. Tell him."

Anna frowned. "Fitzgerald?" She asked, louder than she'd intended.

At the front of the classroom, her teacher nodded in approval. "F. Scott Fitzgerald, precisely," he said, before continuing with his explanation.

"Sorry," Anna whispered to Moana, "but thanks."

"No problem," her new friend said. "I'm bored too. I'd much rather be on my boat right now."

"You have a boat?" Anna had to struggle to keep her voice down. Okay, a super-spy sister was something to boast with, but a boat sounded like a less confusing adventure.

Moana nodded. "I'll show you sometime."

Their conversation died, only to be revived again when their teacher ceased his explanation to let them work on the assigned tasks. Talking to Moana was easy, and Anna realized she'd made her first friend already. It didn't surprise her; people always seemed drawn to her, to her positive attitude to life and the kindness and innocence she'd been told she possessed. Making friends came easy to her, at least easier than figuring out whoever the hell she was living with. And, Anna thought, if she talked to Moana, she would distract herself from the mystery that was her sister.

Her classes bored her to death, and at the end of the short school day, when the bell rang to signal student freedom, Anna all but jumped up, eager to go home. Despite being seventeen, she'd always been relatively tiny, and it wasn't difficult to find an opening in the crowd of students all racing for the door. She avoided stepping on toes and ducked under sweaty armpits as well as she could, not bothering to mumble apologies this time.

Until she ran into _him._

She'd slammed into him at a high velocity, effectively knocking herself to the ground. She looked up, ready to ask this _wall_ of a guy why he'd decided to stand still right in front of the doorpost, but when her eyes found his, she found herself stunned.

Okay, he had been in her class the whole time, but she hadn't taken the time to study his handsome features before. When she'd introduced herself in front of her new classmates, he'd been nothing but another face in the crowd, one of her many spectators waiting for the new girl to reveal the story, the person behind the awkward smile. Now his eyes didn't stare at her with curiosity, but with concern, as if he wanted to make sure she hadn't broken any bones.

"I'm so sorry," he said, extending his hand to help her up. His voice was laced with the slightest hints of a Danish accent, which only served to make him more adorable.

"Don't be," Anna started when she let him pull her up. "I'm just awkward. You're not awkward. At all. You're gorgeous."

_Curse that stupid rambling!_

The boy smiled, green eyes lighting up in amusement. He had wondeful ginger hair, Anna saw, wondering how soft it would feel beneath her fingers. And did he have _s__ideburns_? So hopelessly outdated, but on him, they seemed like they were meant to be there.

The boy pulled her aside gently when Carrot Guy cleared his throat, an annoyed signal for them to move out of the way. He shoved past them rather roughly, due to his overall hugeness, and was followed out by Moana, who gave Anna the slightest thumbs up before leaving.

"Are you okay?" Her wonderful classmate asked, still concerned.

"More than okay," Anna said upon realizing she was still holding his hand. She hoped she wasn't being too obvious about having fallen head over heels for her saviour. That he had caused her to fall down in the first place had already been forgotten. It had been _her _who came rushing, after all.

The boy let go of her hand and Anna wanted to beg him to take it again. "I'm Hans," he said. "And you're Anna, my pretty new classmate."

Had he actually called her pretty? Anna was swooning. "Pretty?"

Hans nodded. "Very much. It would be nice to get to know you a little better, Anna. Would you care for a tour around the school?"

Anna's whole heart wanted to say yes. She wanted to walk the halls with him, listen to Hans explain how everything worked, even the most trivial things; she wanted to see the smile on his face as he showed her around, wanted to take in the smell of his cologne just a little longer.

But she shook her head.

"Could we do that later, during a break? I'd love a tour, but my sister's waiting outside to pick me up. If we test her patience too much, she might go a little… jeesh."

She'd expected to be faced with heartbreak as Hans sneered at her for rejecting him like that, but no such thing came. All he did was shrug and smile in that intoxicating, charming way he seemed to have. "Whatever suits you best, milady, but I do hope it will be before the Halloween Party. I'd like to get to know you before that takes place."

"Oh," Anna said sheepishly, a blush forming on her cheeks. "Why?"

Hans smirked. "Because there's a chance I want you to be my date." He turned around, holding up his hand by way of goodbye. "Looking forward to seeing you around," he called out while walking away, and all Anna could do was stutter a pathetic 'y-yeah!' in reply.

She stood there for a minute or two, frozen in place. Had that actually happened, or was this a beautiful dream? Sure, making friends came easy to her, but attracting the attention of the opposite sex had been a different story. The fact that this _very hot _classmate had expressed romantic interest in her left her breathless, high on happiness.

It took her a while to get over her own surprise and joy. She remembered what she'd told Hans: 'my sister's waiting outside to pick me up'.

_Elsa_.

With that in mind, Anna sprinted down the stairs, ignoring the comments of 'no running!' spoken by passing teachers. She bolted for the door outside, making her way through clusters of students still talking, and looked around for her sister.

When Anna had told Elsa she could very well take the bus or the tram to school, her sister had forbidden it. "I'll pick you up," she'd said. "You might not have noticed, but this is one of the worst neighbourhoods in Oslo. It's not safe."

Anna had asked why in the hell Elsa lived in an unsafe neighbourhood, all alone before Anna's arrival, and Elsa had said it was the best way to stay hidden. 'People don't pay attention to you here', she'd said, 'people look at you, but they don't remember you'. If there was anything her sister valued, it had been her anonimity. It was no doubt work-related, but Anna got the feeling that Elsa _preferred _to live that way: in the shadows, out of sight, always there but never seen, master of a hidden puppetshow. She didn't revel in attention the way Anna did; attention, for Elsa Arens, was more disease than cure.

Anna spotted her older sister with some difficulty, leaning against her car, parked in a darker corner of the school's parking lot. She was on the phone, Anna noticed, something of a frustrated frown on her face, and yet, she didn't draw attention to herself. No one spared a glance, looking right through her if they looked in her general direction at all. Even with her good looks, Elsa was able to make sure she didn't stand out much, blending in with her surroundings as if she wasn't human but simply a decoration of her own car.

"Look," Anna heard her say as she approached, "chances are high it was an accident. I mean, I _want _to believe it was an accident, but there's a chance it wasn't, and I want it investigated. Why can't you do that for me?"

She shushed Anna with a single serious look, listening to whatever the person she listened to through the phone answered. Anna watched as her sister's face slowly but surely transformed from frustrated to downright angry. If Anna hadn't known Elsa wasn't one to shout, she'd have expected her older sibling to start making a scene.

It didn't happen. "_Fine,_" was all Elsa growled into the phone. "Just send me whatever useful footage you can find, and I'll investigate on my own. You can't stop me from doing so."

She hung up the phone without a goodbye and sighed, expression softening as she shifted her attention to Anna. "Sorry," she said, "someone from work. I don't think I can expect any help from him."

"Help with what?" Anna asked as she entered Elsa's car.

Elsa got behind the wheel, started up her car. Conflict flashed through her eyes, as if she wasn't sure if Anna could know about this. "The crash," she finally said. "Mom and dad."

"They had an accident."

"That's what I'm hoping for. I know there's not much reason to believe it was anything more than that, but…" Elsa bit her lip, driving away. "I just need to know for sure."

Anna nodded. The memory of their deceased parents still hurt, and she didn't think the sting would ever disappear completely. She could make peace with their deaths, sometime, when she'd rebuild her relationship with Elsa, when she'd hopefully be in a relationship with her handsome classmate Hans.

Elsa, as it turned out, had not been able to cope well with the deaths of Agdar and Idun Arens either. Anna suspected the need to investigate the crash was born out of a certain paranoia combined with a need for some sort of closure. A closure Elsa could've had if she had stayed instead of running away, a closure coming to the funeral could've given her.

Anna didn't want to think about that.

"It's a good thing, probably. It's normal to want to know for sure." They sounded like the right words to say, the words Elsa wanted to hear, the validation she may have been looking for. Even if Anna wasn't sure if she meant those words, she had to voice them.

Elsa gave her the slightest hint of a smile. "Thanks." She turned to Anna, smile growing a little. It would have looked more genuine if the look in her eyes hadn't been so lifeless. "But let's not talk about that now. How was your day?"

Not for the first time that afternoon, Anna felt a burst of joy in her chest. The idea of her sister expressing even the tiniest amount of interest warmed her up inside, filled a void that had been empty for a long time.

She smiled back, full of warmth. "Do I got something to tell you…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts you want to tell me about? Feel free. I hope you're enjoying, at least!


	3. Chapter 3: Saturday mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna discovers that you can learn many things in just one morning. Too many things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could've had this one earlier if school hadn't been a thing. You could've had this a week ago. Would any of you be interested in suing my school?

Mornings. They could be quite boring.

It was seven.

Anna groaned. It was a saturday and she liked sleeping in, but now that she was awake, patting around on her nightstand to turn the glaring red light of her alarm clock away from her eyes again, she would not be able to fall back to sleep, out of boredom and discomfort. She groaned again, buried her face in her pillow and wondered what had led to her waking up this early on the weekend.

Elsa's apartment smelled… chocolatey.

She shot up, realizing what had caused her to wake. Delicious chocolatey _something_ in the air. Her mouth watered and she felt a rumble in her stomach; whatever Elsa was making this early in the morning, it was already better than last night's rather pathetic attempt at chicken soup. Anna kicked her bedsheets away and almost flung herself out of bed, making her way out of her room without even thinking about doing something about the massive bedhead she sported.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she entered the kitchen, still sounding half-asleep. She squinted when sunlight reached her eyes and sniffed the air. "What's that delicious smell?"

Elsa was seated at the kitchen table, munching on… whatever it was. "Breakfast," Elsa said, pointing at a plate in the middle of the table with her fork. "You have eyes, don't you? Take a look."

Anna rolled her eyes at her sister's sass and followed the fork to see. The plate held a small stack of pancakes, coloured an unusually dark shade of brown. Not that they were charred, no; these pancakes looked like a pleasurable high in the many lows of Elsa's cooking. Anna remembered the chocolatey smell.

"Are those chocolate pancakes?" she asked, trying not to drool all over her pajamas.

Elsa nodded.

"Why are you making chocolate pancakes at seven in the morning? It's a saturday." Though she questioned her sister's sanity, Anna did not waste time. She scoured a few cabinets for a clean plate and plopped it down on the table with a clang.

"I always make pancakes on saturday mornings," Elsa said with something of amusement shining in her eyes. "They're delicious."

If they tasted as good as they smelled, Anna had no trouble believing that. She sat down and took a pancake off of the stack with only a few noises of pain due to the hotness on her fingers. "You didn't make pancakes last week," she told her sister, "you weren't even here last week."

"I didn't have the day off last week. Now I do, so it's pancake time."

Anna could get used to that. She topped her pancake with sugar and dug in, only now remembering how hungry she'd been. "But it's _seven_," she replied with her mouth full, "do you know how to sleep in? Do you even sleep at all?"

Elsa shrugged, following Anna's example by taking another pancake off of the pile. "It seems like you were up at seven too, though," she said, "and I can always reheat some of these for you, or you can eat them cold if you want to. They taste fine either way."

A huge understatement. Anna hadn't thought Elsa had it in her, especially after yesterday's chicken soup and an earlier dinner of burned hamburgers, but these pancakes tasted even better than the ones Gerda made. Anna wasted no time in helping herself to a second portion.

"They're amazing."

"Why, thank you."

They ate in silence for a bit. Anna found herself searching for something to say. What could they talk about? She rolled up her pancake and took a bite, thinking. She could ask Elsa a question, but none of them felt right. Of course, she could just keep quiet, but Anna hated silence. There had to be some sort of noise to keep her occupied, be it music on a radio or a voice that may or may not be her own.

"You know," she started, "I had the craziest dream last night."

"Did you?" Elsa looked up from her plate, eyeing Anna with expectancy.

The younger girl nodded. "Yeah," she said, swallowing her bite. "I was at the Halloween Party, at school. Hans asked me to dance, and it was wonderful. We danced all night, like in a fairy tale."

"That guy again?" There was no disdain in Elsa's voice, but there was no approval either. It was nothing but a stiff acknowledgement of her sister's love interest.

Anna crossed her arms. "Don't be so negative about him," she pouted, choosing to interpret her sister's forced neutrality as negativity. "He's a wonderful guy."

"Can you really say that about a guy you talked to for a total of two minutes?" Elsa raised an eyebrow, finishing her last pancake. She pushed what was left of the stack towards Anna. "Here, you can have the rest."

"Hold up," Anna said, "how did you do that?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"_That_," Anna repeated, "the thing with your eyebrow. It's terrifying."

"It… is?"

"Absolutely. Can you teach me?"

"How," Elsa sputtered, "did we decide that my eyebrows are worth discussing? We were talking about that guy you keep talking about continuously with the occasional five-minute interval. That was a better conversation."

Anna was about to reply when there was a knock on the door.

She shot up out of her chair in shock. It wasn't a single knock, wasn't even a pattern like Anna's own signature knocking. It was some kind of hurried chaos beating against Elsa's front door, as if the end of the world came to Oslo on a peaceful saturday morning.

Anna glanced at Elsa, who sighed in exasperation and lifted her eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer for help. It consumed the older sibling so much she didn't even notice it when Marshmallow crawled onto her lap, licking the table for leftovers.

Anna did the math as fast as she could. It could be Weselton at the door, with Elsa acting all annoyed like this. But infuriating as the man might have been, he could provide information on Elsa, and Anna would take whatever she could get her hands on. And if it wasn't Weselton, it would at least be someone her sister knew, someone nicer with more interesting stories to tell if Anna got lucky.

She saw no downsides.

"I'll answer," Anna almost shouted at her sister as she made a dash for the front door. This shook Elsa out of her daze; she jumped up with a panicked 'Anna!', as if she wanted to oppose to her younger sibling doing something as simple as opening a door. It only strengthened Anna's resolution to find out whoever was kicking the door in.

"Morning," she said with a smile as she threw the door open. Her smile, however, faltered when she saw who was at the door.

It wasn't Weselton. At least she'd been saved from that disaster.

The woman at the door rubbed the knuckles on her right hand, soothing the ache from the frantic knocking she'd been doing. She looked like she'd escaped from prison a few hours ago. Her grey jacket was torn and ripped, damaged, as if she'd been in a fight, and it was full of half-faded red spots, like the woman had been caught up in a very unfortunate ketchup incident. Her blue eyes flamed like liquid fire, burning everything in her path with something of a bored glare.

"Um," Anna said, barely succeeding in subduing the nervous giggle bubbling up, "how can I help you?"

The woman pulled a face. "What the fuck is up with your hair?" she asked in English.

Anna frowned. Waking up at seven? Okay. Eating pancakes at seven? Sure. Being offended by a stranger at seven? Not on her list. "I could ask you the same question," she replied, switching to the language the woman spoke.

The woman's right hand travelled to her hair as if it was a subconscious motion, raking through the absolute mess of curls on her head. They burned with the same fire her eyes had, Anna noticed, and she figured she did not want to mess with the person in front of her. Whoever this redhead was, whatever she came to do, an air of danger hung around her that Anna couldn't ignore. The thought of this woman being some sort of enemy assassin sent to kill Elsa came up in her mind, but she refused to believe that. Even if it turned out to be true, Anna wouldn't let _anyone_ take her last family member away from her. She'd fight the redhead if it ever came down to it.

She'd ready clenched her hands into fists, ready to fullfill the heroic fantasy, but the redhead laughed. Genuine, unrestrained laughter. "Feisty. I like you."

But when the laughter died down, her easy smile faded and her eyes turned harsh again. "But who are you?"

"That's my sister," Elsa said, gently pushing Anna away so she could face her visitor. She spoke English too. "Her name is Anna. Do you need to know more?"

Anna watched the sly smile creep up on the redhead's face. "Sister, huh? Nice to meet you." She extended a hand, which Anna took with reluctance.

"I'm Merida Dunbroch," the redhead said by ways of introduction, "and I'm sorry for my haggard looks today. It's not always this bad. There was an… accident."

"With ketchup?" Anna asked, releasing Merida's hand.

The redhead's gaze drifted to the dark, red spots in her grey jacket. "Uh… yeah."

"_Merida_," Elsa said in an almost hostile tone. "What are you doing here?"

Merida took a step forward, amused eyes locking with Anna's sister's. If Anna had had a bowl of popcorn, she'd have sat down with it to watch the entire interaction and learn who this Merida was.

"Hiccup told me you weren't on speaking terms with him. Something about an angry phone call." Merida grinned as Elsa averted her eyes. "So he sent me to tell you. We've got a special assignment, you and I."

What was that accent? Anna couldn't quite place it. She figured Merida spoke little to no Norwegian, what with her sticking to English and all, but Anna couldn't immediately tell where she came from. It wasn't the American accent she'd heard so often in movies and TV shows, and neither was it the stereotypical British accent. Irish? Could that be it? No, not Irish. This was different. She'd heard it in the Harry Potter movies, occasionally. Where was Hogwarts located again?

Scotland.

There was a mysterious Scottish redhead at the door at seven in the morning, talking to Elsa about special assignments.

Anna had seen weirder things.

"What's a special assignment?" she asked. Elsa wouldn't spill a word, but perhaps her visitor was different.

Merida fidgeted with her fingers. "Can we… discuss this inside?" The smile on her face turned ridiculously sweet, one of feigned innocence.

Anna shrugged and said 'yes', simultaneous with Elsa's 'no'.

Oh.

"The more Anna knows, the more danger she's in," Elsa said, eyeing Merida with a look of semi-suspicion. "We're not going to be discussing anything about this assignment at my place."

"Fair enough."

"Wait," Anna piped up, "do I get a say in this?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow again. "Not really?"

"Please," Anna pleaded, "can we let her in? I just want to get to know your friend."

Elsa tensed at that word, 'friend'. Anna made a mental note to keep careful track of her sister's actions; there could be potential clues to her relationship with this redhead in her actions.

"Yeah, Elsa," Merida joined in, "she wants to get to know me, I want to get to know her. Can we please let me in?"

Elsa stared as if Merida was some sort of vampire who would start sucking out her blood when she got permission to enter, but to Anna's relief, she turned away and said: "Stop ganging up on me and don't forget to close the door behind you."

Merida stepped inside and Anna followed Elsa's order of closing the door.

"Can I ask you about the ketchup incident?" Anna asked, eyeing Merida's grey jacket.

"Well…"

Elsa left the hallway at a brisk pace. "Mer, she knows about the Company," she said, "so just tell her you committed another murder."

Anna's eyes widened as Merida gave her the same easy smile as before, albeit a little sheepish now. "You heard your sister. No ketchup. Only a murder."

Torn grey jacket, splattered with blood. Hair and eyes with fire in them. Whoever this Merida Dunbroch would turn out to be, Anna already knew she walked a thin wire, balancing somewhere above terrifying, badass and completely deranged.

Anna was torn between being in awe or scared to death.

Her brain made a connection to the brief conversation she'd shared with Elsa in the car, back when her biggest worry was wondering how she'd deal with her homesickness. She could hear her sister talking about her workplace; work for spies, she'd said, and a more shady side. _If you want someone dead, all you need to do is ask._

Anna had found the shady side of the Company: a Scottish woman with crazy hair and a very loose grasp on the term 'polite'. A murderer.

The murderer, as Anna had figured her out to be, had shifted her attention to Elsa, who sat down in a rigid pose in the exact same spot at the kitchen table she'd been in before, looking like she would much rather turn invisible than deal with her visitor.

"_Thank you,_" Merida started, "for offering me a drink. An amazing host you are. I guess I'll help myself."

Elsa gave the slightest nod of tentative approval and Merida set out for the refrigerator at a calm pace. Anna frowned. The redhead seemed to feel quite at home here, for a colleague. Was she Elsa's friend after all? Something else? Something more? Anna recalled how Elsa had tensed when her sister had referred to Merida as 'friend'. What did that mean?

Anna sat down in the chair opposite of her sister, her eyes finding icy blue ones. "Who _is_ she?" she whispered with a glance at Merida, who rummaged through the fridge in search of a drink.

"The most dangerous person I've met in my life," was all Elsa said, with the same hushed voice Anna had used. Then she turned to Merida. "You said you wanted to get to know my sister, but you seem to be more occupied with my fridge."

"This expires tomorrow," Merida said as she placed the carton of apple juice she'd been studying on the counter. She reached for a glass as if she'd known its location forever. "I'm helping you get rid of it. You ought to thank me."

"I ought to get rid of _you_. There's nothing for you to do here."

Merida's expression screamed the question 'are you sure about that?', but she didn't say a word.

"Why so hostile?" Anna asked, her question directed more at Elsa than Merida. "Did something happen between you, or…?"

"Nope," Merida said, popping the 'p'. "_Some people _love being all cold towards me at times. It's nothing personal, though." She gave Elsa a devilish smile. "What's the deal today? Woke up in a foul mood, or is it something your sister isn't supposed to know?"

Elsa grumbled a wordless reply. Anna gave her a suspicious look, but her sister averted her gaze, her face slightly reddening. As for the rest, she was unreadable.

"It shouldn't surprise me," Anna began, "that my super-spy sister has secrets." She frowned. "It gets a little tiring, though, calling you super-spy sister," she told Elsa in an attempt to steer the conversation to a more comfortable subject for her sister. If Elsa was at ease, there was a chance she might spill some of her secrets. "I gotta shorten it. How about… SS?"

Elsa had a coughing fit.

"Slow down, Himmler," Merida said, "and add an extra 'S', or you're going to get some weird looks."

"Or just call me Elsa," Elsa mumbled, "it's my name."

Anna shrugged, turning to Merida. "What do you know that I don't? Can you tell me? Elsa doesn't tell me anything. Do you know her well? How did you two even meet?"

Merida chuckled and downed her apple juice in one go. "You could say," she said, giving Elsa a _l__ook_, "that we know eachother quite well."

That look… it wasn't a normal look. There was something in it, a playfulness of some sorts, as if Merida had just invited Elsa to join a big conspiracy. Anna recognized that look, but she couldn't put her finger on where exactly she had been confronted with it before; it seemed a perfect mixture of smug confidence and amused seductiveness.

When she remembered the look she'd tried to put on her own face when talking to Hans, it clicked. This Merida Dunbroch _nailed_ that look, with all its cool indifference and its playful affection.

That look was flirty.

The expression on her sister's face proved her theory. Elsa seemed to be planning to disappear and go live under a bridge somewhere. And yet, the composure in her voice remained. "That we do." There was an edge of menace to it, a warning of sorts, but only if Anna strained to hear it.

Merida placed her empty glass and her hands on the kitchen table, leaning forward in Anna's direction. "But I'm more interested in learning why you want to know all of that."

Anna swallowed as blue eyes as unnerving as Elsa's fixed themselves on her, awaiting an answer. Her only relief was that Merida did not seem to know how to do Elsa's eyebrow trick.

"Like I said, Elsa doesn't tell me anything."

"It's not _that _bad," Elsa protested, but the damage had already been done.

"Really?" Merida turned to Elsa with an amused smirk, leaning in her direction now. "You've always been one for secrets. And you know?"

Anna watched as the redhead's face kept coming closer to Elsa's, until the distance between them was nothing but a few centimeters. She expected her sister to flinch back, but Elsa remained sitting stiffly in her seat, eyes locked in something that could pass as a glare.

"We'll see how long you can keep them," Merida said, words tainted by something that almost felt conspiratory.

Anna narrowed her eyes. Something was going on here, she could feel it. There was a tension, there were unspoken words, and when she looked at her sister and the redhead she'd just met, she knew there was something she didn't know, something important. Whatever relationship Elsa had with this Merida, they weren't friends. They were more.

Or less.

Merida pushed herself away from the table and Elsa's face with unexpected speed, looking rather pleased with herself. "Anyway," she told Elsa, "seeing as I won't get to tell you about the special assignment here, you might want to stop by my place later today. I'll tell you everything you need to know. It could be… fun."

_Fun._ Was it Anna's imagination, or was there something strange about the way Merida said that? It wasn't an innocent statement, no. It was an implication.

Elsa nodded, as stiff and cold as she'd been ever since Anna had opened the door. "Fine."

"Great. See you later, then." Merida gave a small wave and turned around, walking towards the hall at a lazy pace, hands shoved into the pockets of her damaged jacket. Anna considered walking with her to the door, but the redhead seemed to know the way just fine.

"Try not to run into Weselton," Elsa called after her, "or at least don't threaten him. I don't want any more complaints."

Merida gave a thumbs up without turning around. "He can eat shit and die."

"Tell _me_," Elsa mumbled in Norwegian, "not him."

What had Weselton said about Elsa again? _Always running around with that damn thug._ If Anna had to guess, it was Merida Dunbroch he'd been talking about; a Scottish assassin who showed up at your door with a jacket full of blood must've fit right into his definition of thug. In the objective sense of the word, Anna couldn't disagree with him.

She let it all sink in for a second. It was a pretty wild morning and it hadn't gotten her anywhere. When she heard the sound of the front door slamming closed, when the redhead was out of sight, she turned to her sister and asked again: "who is she?"

Elsa stood up. "The only serial killer in Oslo who's doing it with legal permission and a paycheck to die for."

"That's not what I mean. I mean, who is she to you?"

Elsa stacked their empty plates, the clinging filling the room. "What are you talking about?"

She couldn't be serious. Anna refused to believe it. Elsa knew what she was talking about and she knew it well; she couldn't be a spy if she didn't pick up on something as obvious as the scene Anna had been a witness of.

"You. And her. You've got a… _thing _going on. I'm not sure what it is, but it's there. You can't deny it."

"I can't?"

"You heard me."

Elsa placed her cutlery on the plates and brought them to the counter. Anna did not miss the faint hint of red on her cheeks, colouring the usually so pale skin. "There's nothing worth mentioning."

"Look," Anna said, taking the empty glass Merida had left and bringing it to the counter in an attempt to be helpful. "You can say you're gay. I don't care. Well, no, don't get me wrong, of course I care! I don't… mind? Is that the right way to say it?"

Elsa smiled a little, but she did not look Anna in the eye. "…Thanks." She filled the kitchen sink with running water out of the tap, so hot it gave off steam. "But there's still nothing."

Anna tried to raise her eyebrow like Elsa had done, but her attempt failed. She reminded herself to ask her sister for a lesson later. "Oh, come on, there's definitely something weird going on. If you're not dating her, you have a crush on her. Do you?"

"No."

Anna pouted. "You said I could ask questions, and now you're answering with lies?"

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

"Everything."

The sink had finally filled up. Elsa started washing their plates after putting some dishwashing soap in the water, leaving Anna to wonder how she didn't even flinch when her hands made contact with the hotness of the liquid.

"Even if I did have a crush on her, I still wouldn't need to tell you."

"That's right." Anna propped herself up on the counter. "But if it's not a crush, what is it?"

"Why won't you believe me when I say there's nothing?"

"Because it's a _lie_. Secret relationship?"

"No."

"Spicy forbidden work romance?"

"What the fuck? No."

Anna sighed. "So what is it, then? Some kind of friends with benefits agreement?"

It had been a joke above all, but the complete lack of an answer was… concerning. Anna couldn't call it a confirmation, not when there were no words being said, but silence could speak louder than words. That day on the early saturday morning, the silence screeched its lungs out.

"You're messing with me. Are you _serious_?"

Elsa showed a sudden profound interest in the pan she was scrubbing clean, but she did regain the use of her tongue. "I… did not know there was a word for it."

"Of course there's a word for it! How come you didn't know?"

"What do you think I do when I wake up in the morning?" Elsa almost spat those words. "Browse Urban Dictionary for an hour to keep up with your American-styled high school lingo? Because I don't. I get dressed and brush my teeth like a normal person."

Anna's eyes widened. "You brush your teeth before breakfast?"

"You say that like it's _wrong_."

"Because it is!"

Elsa dropped the fork she'd been washing back into the water. "Can we stop discussing my dental hygiene?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah, but only because we've got something else to discuss. Your sex life."

"Oh, for the love of-"

"That? It doesn't sound like you at all."

If she looked at the picture of Elsa she'd painted in her head, this did not fit in at all.

Elsa was finished washing the dishes and drained the water. "I know. Like I said, some things... happen."

"I mean, Merida does look pretty good. And now I know the family kink."

"Family kink?"

"Mom and I aren't the only ones in the family with a thing for redheads with accents."

All she got in reply was a muffled groan. Anna watched her sister place every piece of kitchenware back where it belonged. Elsa worked on it as if she had severe OCD, and the younger girl didn't dare interfere with the task.

"Anna?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to make an agreement with you."

Anna couldn't help herself. "Not like the one you have with Merida, I hope."

"No." Elsa pointed at her with the fork she'd washed earlier, as if challenging Anna to a duel. "But it does have benefits for both of us. If you don't pester me or meddle with, well, whatever it is I've got with Merida, I'll do the same for you and your precious Hans."

Anna hesitated. When it came to romance, she loved taking a nose-dive in its warm bath, even if it was someone else's romance. Especially if it was someone else's romance, though what Elsa had confessed didn't sound so romantic. If she promised not to meddle, would she still be able to get to know Merida Dunbroch, and through her, the sister she'd retrieved? Was promising not to meddle the same thing as promising not to communicate with Merida at all?

On the other hand, Elsa had made it clear she did not approve of her younger sister's interest in Hans. Anna couldn't understand what it was, but whenever he came up in a conversation, Elsa would pull a face as if she were a child being force-fed medication; somewhere between frustrated, annoyed and mentally screaming. She would stop whatever she had been doing, only to reply to Anna's spoken daydreams about the boy with a cold-edged answer. Anna figured it could be pretty annoying, a lovestruck teenager who couldn't keep her mouth shut about her possible soon-to-be-boyfriend: it was either that, or the fact that she'd known Hans for such a short time. Either way, Elsa did not take kindly to the handsome Danish ginger, put in Anna's classroom by a twist of good-natured fate. Her sister's inability to meddle would mean one less obstacle in her conquest for her crush's heart, she hoped.

"Deal," she finally said. If Elsa had meant 'don't talk to Merida at all' with her words, she should've made a contract on actual paper for Anna to sign and written it down in the tiny letters people always forgot to read. Anna documented her loopholes well. She had to fight to keep the smile from her face; she, too, was becoming better at 'secretive spy stuff', as she'd dubbed her sister's craft.

"Good," Elsa said, walking out of the kitchen.

Anna yawned. "Guess I'll go and get dressed. Do something about this hair. Anything else you need to confess before I'm gone?"

She had expected a 'no', but it didn't come. In hindsight, considering the earlier events of the morning, Anna should not have been surprised at the addition of yet another strange phenomenon to her weekend.

The answer she got was, "I have magic ice powers."

Elsa's back was turned to her. Anna couldn't see her sister's face, but she figured it held an expression of amused sass, the one she got when she decided to put her wits to good use for a dry-humoured joke. Her hands twitched slightly, but Anna did not seek anything behind the motion.

"Yeah, right," she chuckled, "and I'm the Queen of England."

She began walking away, to her room. She would go and brush her teeth first, she thought, after breakfast, like normal people who weren't Elsa. It would be appreciated, too; the pancakes had been delicious, but they had left an aftertaste in her mouth she wanted to get rid of. Yes, some nice, minty toothpaste, and maybe a shower-"

She stopped abruptly and yelped when she felt something hit her in the head.

It hadn't hit her hard, but it was wet, and cold above all, an uneasy coolness tangled up in her hair. Her eyes drifted to the ground, where a little pile of white flakes lay waiting for her, the last remains of what had been a flawless snowball; after all, everything her sister created had a sense of flawlessness to it.

"Your majesty." Elsa spoke the title in a complete monotone, snowflakes swirling around her calmly.

Anna blinked.

A nervous smile appeared on Elsa's face. "Are you… okay?"

Anna buried a hand in her hair, the other leaning against the wall for support, eyes widening like saucers. "No," she muttered, walking towards the bathroom in a daze. "I'm the Queen of _fucking_ England."

Next saturday, she thought, she'd try to sleep in 'till noon; at least then there would be some common sense left for the rest of the day.

Mornings. They could be rather interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4: Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa stops by Merida's house to be briefed about the special assignment and ends up facing unexpected questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Sorry, it's been almost a month, but this story sure hasn't been forgotten. It's incredibly fun to be writing this, and I do hope the reading makes for a good experience as well.

Sometimes, you start your day the right way; singing birds, sunny weather, the smell of your own homemade chocolate pancakes combined with an overall sense of peace.

Other times, you come out to your sister as a lesbian ice sorceress with a shady job and a questionable relationship.

Elsa had seen better days.

At least Anna took everything she threw at her, cold snowballs included, relatively well. Okay, her younger sister had spent the bigger part of the evening mumbling very intelligent words and phrases, such as 'what the hell?', '_Magic_', 'superspy… snow sister?', and the occasional 'I can't handle the responsibilities of being Queen of England.' Every time she looked Elsa in the eyes, she did so with an expression of wonder, amazement and immense confusion, as if she was eager to solve a puzzle only she could see.

It could be worse, if Elsa was honest. She'd take that impressed confusion over fear anytime. Most of the conversations she'd had with Anna later that day had consisted of her sister bombarding her with questions. _D__id you always have those cool powers? Does anyone beside me know? Could you make an ice palace if you tried?_

To which Elsa had replied with, 'yes, yes, I'm sure of it,' precisely in that order. It was an interesting experience, her sister's constant questioning, allowing her to see her life in a whole new light. A light she wasn't all that fond of so far. It served as a reminder of the many questionable choices she'd made along the way, and though she'd trained herself not to care too much about what other people thought of her, she considered Anna's opinion of her of grave importance.

Special assignments be damned. Elsa's most important assignment was making sure Anna didn't end up like her. A goal only achieved if the younger girl didn't… look up to her so much. And at the same time, Elsa thought, a part of her did want Anna to appreciate her, even if she wasn't deserving of much praise and love. That part of her contained all the selfishness she had in her body, the same selfishness with which she'd elected to make Anna the offer about coming to live with her.

_Should've left her with Kai and Gerda. Would've been better for her._

She shook that thought away, crossing the street while shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun. It may have been the truth, but that didn't mean said truth needed to be given actual thought. Things happened, choices had been made, there was no way back, it was simply the way things were, done. She shoved her hand in the pocket of her coat the moment she felt the frost creep on her fingertips, tingling with a feeling of insecurity she couldn't help but despise. _Conceal, don't feel_. Frost on her hands in early september would raise questions, especially now, with her walking around the city like this. Oslo may have had a cold climate, but wintery weather in summer's final days would be a bit much.

She'd hoped the walk to Merida's humble home would clear her mind, but Elsa had no such luck. In the rare moments Anna didn't occupy her thoughts that day, her mind focused itself on her redhaired colleague, with all her sly smiles and special assignments and _very_ inconvenient flirting.

Seriously? Anna had been right there.

Elsa willed the frost away, forcing it to recede. Her Company training had taught her how to control her powers, for the most part. Not that it took all the danger and cold she had swirling within her away; while she was fine most of the time, her control wasn't impeccable, as if she were missing a key component in the formula to complete control, a secret ingredient of sorts. All she could do was try to keep her emotions under control; if she managed to do that, if she didn't feel too much, she could refrain from harming anyone, be it on purpose or by accident.

She knew only one person who could mess with her whole 'don't feel' philosophy without any difficulties, and she was bound for that person's house. It didn't help clear her mind one bit. With every step she took, squeezing her way through groups of people who walked too slow for her liking, she told herself again and again that Merida Dunbroch _really_ wasn't supposed to make her feel actual emotions.

Wasn't that the whole idea behind being 'friends with benefits', as Anna had called it? That there were no emotions involved? By all means, if anyone wasn't worth wasting emotions on, it was Merida. Elsa knew this, knew it well, too. Calling the redhead a queen of one-night stands would be an exaggeration, but she sure did rank as a princess. Elsa was aware of this. Of course she was. Which was also why she didn't care. Merida could do what- and whoever she wanted. So could Elsa, had she felt the desire to. They weren't in a relationship or anything.

Next to her, a young man yelped as he slipped on ice. He managed to save himself by wrapping his arms around a lamppost, breaking his fall, looking around frantically to find out what had caused it in the first place. Elsa sighed and picked up her pace.

Fortunately, Merida didn't live far away. Elsa could walk the distance with ease. Her spirits brightened when she spotted the redhead's home, eager to find a way to distract herself from her own mind in whichever way possible. She'd always hated how _complicated _everything had to be with her, every single day; constant overthinking without a day's rest, always worrying about everything and nothing, that vague feeling of ever-present stress that slept within her. And sometimes, when her magic didn't make her feel like she could rule the world, it crawled under her skin like bugs trying to eat her alive.

_Hopelessly complicated, every single thing._

In the four years Elsa had known Merida, she'd visited her colleague's house on occasion, with said visits growing a little more frequent ever since they'd set up their agreement last year. Whenever Elsa neared the house, old but in a marvellous state, she had to allow herself a good five seconds for an obligatory eye roll. She could never bring herself to understand _why_ Merida needed an expensive, big house like the one she owned, with a grand total of four stories and two balconies that went unused for the most part.

A rather impressive building, for someone who lived alone. It bordered on the pretentious, a splendid display of wealth that seemed to scream 'show-off' to everyone who wanted to hear. When asked about her interesting choice of house, Merida would grin and say a fancy house like the one she owned tended to impress girls. To Elsa, it seemed like a lie. She theorized that the ridiculously expensive home had to be a compensation of sorts, to make up for a brief period in Merida's life in which she'd been homeless, all alone in a strange country. A coping mechanism, if that was what she could call it.

It didn't matter. Figuring out how the gears in Merida Dunbroch's brain turned wasn't anything she needed to concern herself with. The analysis of the redhead's inner psyche was Rapunzel's job, a job she could've been doing if she hadn't disappeared.

Elsa knocked on the door, more calmly than Merida had done that morning. She counted the seconds that passed between her knocking and the moment her colleague would open the door. She'd either be waiting ten seconds, or five minutes. There was no inbetween in Merida's little world.

Today was a 'ten seconds' day; the redhaired Scot appeared at the door at a speed previously unknown to mankind. Elsa chose to interpret it as a good sign, vowing to treat Merida with a little more warmth now. Truth be told, she had been exceptionally cold that morning, a result of her inner struggle and inability to cope with the fact that her sister would be seeing yet another side of her that she preferred to keep hidden. It had been unfair to take that frustration out on Merida, even though the redhead and her actions had been rather… _provocative_.

"I was trying to get some work done," Merida began, crossing her arms with a look of mild annoyance that could either be feigned or legitimate. "Got rid of all possible distractions so I could actually accomplish something today. And then the biggest distraction of 'em all shows up at my goddamned front door."

Elsa noticed how she wasn't wearing her damaged jacket anymore. She wore a T-shirt now, short-sleeved, the black one with the flame-eyed demon bear on it. It was Merida's favourite shirt, though Elsa was less fond of it ever since the redhead had made the mistake of wearing it to a church they'd entered when tailing a target. After the sermon, the priest, an old man, had seen it fit to approach Merida to call her out on her rather pagan choice of clothing, harping on about good Christian values and whatnot. Merida, maintaining her usual way of problem-solving called 'don't think, do', had retorted by kissing Elsa on the mouth right in front of him, a passive-agressive attack on the man and his rigid beliefs.

In hindsight, the priest's face had been funny when it turned as red as Merida's hair, and the whole 'innocent young couple' act had been a pretty solid way to direct their target's potential suspicions elsewhere, but it had also been _a__wkward_, and even though Elsa had thoroughly enjoyed that kiss, she didn't think she could ever set foot in that particular church again without wanting to die of embarassment.

What Elsa _could_ appreciate about the shirt, however, was how it allowed her a view of Merida's strong arms (real pieces of work), and the tattoo on her right shoulder. A 'Will 'O the Wisp', Merida had said it was, a creature appearing in Scottish folklore, blue flames burning as bright as the fire in her eyes. When Elsa had asked, the redhead was kind enough to inform her that, yes, those creatures actually existed, and they led people to either their destiny or their doom. She hadn't been willing to say anything else about them. Elsa wasn't going to doubt her words; she herself possessed winter magic, and twelve years ago, she'd met trolls. Merida didn't know about that, didn't know all of Elsa's own secrets, so Elsa considered it to be Merida's right to remain silent about whatever Wisp encounter she may have had in the past.

She blinked a few times, realizing she'd been staring at Merida's arms a little too long, and remembered she still had a comment to reply to.

"I'd apologize," she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "But it was you who invited me to come over today, so I can't imagine I'm doing anything wrong." She shrugged out of her coat, hanging it on the coat rack in Merida's hallway. "Fixing your jacket?"

Merida averted her gaze with something of a blush, arms still crossed, features morphing from annoyed to an adorable kind of frustration. "Yeah. Didn't have time before."

The one useful skill Merida's mother had taught her daughter, according to Merida herself, was sewing. Elsa knew how much the redhead disliked her own talent for it, in part caused by a bad relationship with her mother, in part because she felt it didn't quite fit into the badass image she'd created for herself. Even Merida, however, had to admit that the skill came in handy, especially if you spent the majority of your days running around and shooting people. Fixing her own damaged clothing was not a problem for Merida Dunbroch, as long as she could actually get herself to sit down and do the job. Elsa had disturbed her in her work and it hadn't added to the improvement of Merida's mood.

"And now you still don't have time," Elsa replied, "because you literally told me this morning to come here. You wanted to talk about the special assignment, remember?"

It took Merida a few seconds to answer, making Elsa wonder if she'd managed to forget it about it somehow. She'd become accustomed to the redhead's chaotic way of living at this point, and neither 'planning' nor 'priorities' existed in her brain. If Merida had considered it convenient to forget about her words that morning, she would've simply pushed them to a dark corner of her mind, and she would remember all about them days later and call Elsa awake at one in the morning to ask her why she hadn't stopped by after receiving the invitation.

"Ah, yeah. Assignment. Wanted to brief you this morning, but your sister was there. How long has she been living with you?"

"Two weeks."

When Elsa had left her apartment to go visit Merida about the assignment, Anna had told her to 'have fun'. She'd said 'fun' the way Merida had done before. It was definitely an implication Elsa had heard in those words. Fine. She didn't care. As long as 'implication' didn't turn into 'accusation', there wasn't anything to worry about. Why was she even still thinking about it, if she didn't care? _C__omplicated, everything with you is complicated._

"And now you want to talk about the special assignment."

Elsa took a step forward, bringing herself closer to Merida, looking her in the eyes and nodding. "And now I want to talk about the assignment."

"Do you really?"

"What?"

"Do you really?" Merida frowned, finally uncrossing her arms. "You're thinking. Not about that assignment, but the same old thing as usual. You're not thinking, you're _o__verthinking_."

For all Merida's strange quirks, Elsa had to admire that stupid ability she had to figure her out with so much ease. There were many things on her mind, indeed; the death of her parents and the thought of who or what could be behind it, the innocent sister she had to protect and take care of, the magic slithering through her veins, and the feelings, fuck, feelings she had for Merida that _really_ should not have been there in the first place. So complicated, all of it, but she was stuck in that situation anyway.

"If I abandoned everything that needed to be done because I was _thinking_," Elsa said, "I wouldn't do anything for the rest of my life."

A feeling of warmth shot through her when she felt Merida's hand at her side, tugging her closer to the redhead. "You know," Merida whispered in her ear, "whatever it is today, don't let it get to you. 'S not okay."

_Why _Merida pretended to care about her mental stability was beyond Elsa. Not that she complained. She looked at the woman in front of her, studied that stupid concern in her eyes, and decided that, even if Merida could be an insensitive idiot at times, she liked her tendenct to remain so free of any and all complications. It was always Elsa who had to make situations as complicated as they were, analyzing everything, overthinking all day and night, never quite able to simply let go; not Merida, never Merida. Elsa liked that, almost loved that, but she'd never dare voice that thought.

When she pressed her lips to Merida's, all she could think about was how that _somehow_ still was the easiest thing to do in her world that had turned chaotic the moment Hiccup informed her of her parents' death, and not long after thinking that, she wasn't thinking anymore, not at all. In a new life so full of complications and strange situations Elsa hadn't even started to comprehend, Merida was the one anchor she had left, the only person who remained unchanged and so familiar. Elsa knew her scent by heart (pine forests, mixed with blood on bad days); she knew how her lips tasted (apples, and something sweet Elsa couldn't place,even if it was intoxicating); she knew how her body felt against her own and how her touch could be nothing short of electrifying. And even if Merida wasn't made for relationships, even if she couldn't grasp the concept of commitment, Elsa would take what she could get; after all, she herself wasn't made to be loved either.

"So," Merida said softly, breaking their kiss to Elsa's disappointment, "are you still thinking?"

Elsa wasn't sure when and how her fingers had gotten all tangled up in the mane of red curls, but she wasn't about to remove them. "I suppose all I want to think about now is you."

There was a spark of mischievous delight in those fiery blue eyes as a smile started to form on Merida's face. "Pretty sure you now where my bedroom is."

~~

"So how was Berlin? We didn't talk ever since you left for Germany." Elsa found her sweater and slipped back into it, awaiting an answer.

Merida's face lit up ever so slightly. "Learnt a bunch of curse words, and goddamn, the Germans know how to make pastries." Her smile faded. "But all things considered, it didn't get me anywhere."

Elsa nodded, finding her remaining clothes to put back on. It had been five weeks since Rapunzel and her mother had gone missing, and Merida had made it her personal mission to find her friend. Elsa didn't know Rapunzel well; the woman had always reminded her of Anna, with her endless positivity and sunny attitude to life. The memory hurt, and, Elsa knew, if Rapunzel was indeed so much like her younger sister, she needed to be protected the same way; keeping her at a distance had seemed to be the best way of ensuring her safety.

"No leads at all?" Rapunzel was German and hailed from Berlin, she knew that much, adopted by a Norwegian woman whose dark looks formed such a sharp contrast to the sunshine girl that Elsa couldn't help but have noticed. Merida had gotten it into her head that she may have gone back to her roots in secret.

Merida shook her head, causing a few snowflakes to fall out of her hair, and put her own shirt back on; the demon bear on it shot Elsa a fiery glare. "Not really. I found a Rapunzel Corona in an old missing persons archive, but no Rapunzel Gothel to be found. Besides, Corona has been missing for years. Our Rapunzel hasn't even been gone for two months."

Elsa frowned at that. She felt Merida may have missed a clue; the woman was a killer, after all, and the gathering of information wasn't what she tended to busy herself with. If Elsa had taken the time to get to know the Gothel girl better before she'd disappeared without a trace, she may have been able to put two and two together. Now, she couldn't tell. She had to remind herself that this case was no Company assignment, which meant that she needn't concern herself about it, especially not while she herself was busy with an investigation of her own.

"I wanted to look into Rapunzel Corona anyway," Merida continued, letting herself fall back onto her bed. "But then some stuff… came up. And now I'll have to put it on hold for a bit with that special assignment we got. By the way, have you seen my socks?"

"No, I haven't seen your socks. What's the special assignment about? I need to combine it with a private investigation."

Merida patted around on her covers, feeling around for her socks. "What investigation?"

"My parents had an accident, or so I've been told. I want to look further into it. Special assignment or not, it's my first priority."

"Condolences," Merida mumbled, her mind wandering back to her missing socks. "Where the fuck did those things go-"

"_Merida_.The assignment."

A special assignment differed from a regular Company assignment in many ways. For a normal assignment, Elsa would be able to find one on the Company's Darknet website; she'd select one of the many open requests for Company assistence, and she'd pick whichever job she liked the sound of, get it done and take the money. A _special _assignment was a different story. It was a special request for specific Company employees to get the job done, an important task too big and dangerous to allow any random agent with a laptop and a large paycheck in mind to accept it.

A special request was often delivered on paper instead of online, and the requesting party went shrouded in anonimity, though the knowledge the special requesters had of Company personell said enough: they were powerful enough to know who worked for one of the most secretive organizations in the world. A special assignment meant 'government', 'corporation', 'police' or 'organized crime'. And whoever had issued _this _special assignment, had asked for Elsa and Merida both.

"I swear, they were here somewhere-"

"_Would you stop looking for your fucking socks and listen to me?_" Elsa snapped, forgetting her vow to be a little kinder to Merida that afternoon. Why, for the love of god, did the redhead still manage to dig a hole under the already impossibly low bar Elsa had set for her?

Merida stopped her searching, laying down on her side. "Sorry, sorry, fucking hell, I really am. Assignment. That's what you came here for."

Elsa remained silent, allowing Merida a few seconds to regain her train of racing thoughts.

"The assignment," she started slowly, "was left by someone anonymous, of course. And we won't even need to go out of town for it at first, according to Hiccup, so you'll have time for your own investigation. Wait, how are you going to investigate that crash anyway?"

Elsa sighed. "Mer. _Focus_."

"Shit, sorry. Okay. The thing is, there's been instances of theft the last few weeks. Or months, I don't recall. Building materials, but the more high-tech work too. What do you think that means?"

Elsa hesitated, but not for long. "I'd say someone's building a machine."

Merida nodded, flashing a big grin. "That's exactly what this anonymous fucker thinks too."

"My guess is, they want us to figure out who's building that machine and why. They want to know what it could be used for, and maybe they want us to take out those guys building it."

"And that's right again. Smart _and_ beautiful, does it get any better?"

_That's what you tell every girl you sleep with._"Merida…"

"Don't say it, I know. Stick to talking about the assignment, don't get distracted, don't look for… where _are_ my socks?"

Elsa sighed and stood up. "I'm fucking leaving."

"No, wait!" Merida jumped out of bed, touching Elsa's shoulder for a brief second as if it would make her stay before, and raced to her desk. Not that someone as disorganized as Merida _needed _a desk; it had a place in the redhead's bedroom for the aesthetic, Elsa suspected, and for the most part it only served a purpose as a dumping place for knick-knacks and miscellaneous papers.

Elsa watched as Merida opened a drawer filled to the brim with a sea of used yellow post-it notes she hadn't thrown away yet. The redhead took a random one, found a pen in some dark corner, crossed out the 'R.G. 02:30 PM' that had been written on it, and began scribbling at a high pace.

"Here," she said when she was done, handing Elsa the old post-it as she made her way back to her bed and sat down again. "A time and a place, sort of. The assignment said there's reason to think a new theft might take place at the Port next Wednesday."

Elsa glanced at the paper, which indeed contained an adress, a time, and other additional information she might have needed. "Got it. Wednesday."

Merida winked, absent-mindedly patting her covers down again. "It's a date, m'lady."

Elsa pulled a few bedsheets away, found a single dark green sock, and threw it at her colleague's face. "Your sock. Now I'm really leaving." She assumed the amount of teasing she would receive from her sister would be determined by the length of her visit. No teasing at all would be her preferred outcome, but, she supposed, certain aspects of life simply couldn't be avoided, not if Anna Arens had a say in it.

She turned around, headed for the door, only to stop dead in her tracks when Merida called a question after her: "Elsa, what's a catalyst?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow and turned back to the redhead sitting cross-legged on her own bed. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You're smart, like I said. I'm sure you know what a catalyst is."

Elsa sighed, digging around in her mind for the information she sought. How could she explain it? A part of her considered giving Merida a bogus answer; random questions asked for random answers. On the other hand, it didn't sound like Merida was messing with her. The question sounded genuine, honest, as if she were actually interested in the answer. Merida Dunbroch wasn't one for lies.

"Catalysis is the process," Elsa explained, "of speeding up or slowing down a chemical reaction, which can only be achieved through the use of something with the ability to speed up or slow down said reaction. That something would be a catalyst."

Merida nodded, a serious expression on her face. "Okay. Thanks."

"Why do you even want to know that?"

Merida Dunbroch was many things, but not a liar; she had a habit of being a little too honest and quite vocal about her opinions, positive or negative. Elsa did not, however, miss the flash of unease crossing her face, the slight hesitation to answer. She'd been trained to spot liars, to sort the truth out of the lies, and Merida was definitely not being truthful. Elsa didn't fail to notice how she actually sat still for once, stiffer than normal, or how her accent seemed to grow a little thicker with every word, or the way her eyes turned in every direction if it meant avoiding Elsa's gaze.

"I saw it in a documentary."

All of that, and the fact that Merida barely watched TV, let alone documentaries on chemistry. But why would she lie?

"You don't watch documentaries."

"I lost my remote," Merida grumbled, "couldn't switch channels."

"Right," Elsa said, turning around, her hand finding the doorknob. "Good luck."

"Good luck with what?"

"Finding your remote."

She left Merida's bedroom, leaving the woman alone to continue on her quest for the missing sock. As Elsa descended down the stairs, she couldn't help but wonder where the hell that question came from. _Catalysis_? She knew Merida quite well; the redhead's mind was prone to racing from point A to point K in a conversation, only to backtrack and touch upon points G and C too, despite the fact that the conversation initially had to go to, well, point B.

But catalysis? It was random, even for Merida. Elsa muttered a curse to herself; now she had to add Merida's sanity to her growing list of things to worry about. Goddamn it. Moments like these made her wonder if her own standards were _that_ low. Being friends with a charming Scottish murderer was one thing, but sleeping with said murderer was questionable at best, even if she was damned attractive and, considering her circumstances, nicer than she should've been.

_And yet_, Elsa thought as she found herself outside again, _she's still a fucking idiot._ Not for the first time, she realized it would be better to stay away from Merida Dunbroch, though another part of her shunned that notion; if she were to ever cut off all ties with the woman, she'd lose both a problem and solution. It wouldn't make her happier, in the end.

That Merida had a habit of sleeping around, Elsa could accept, seeing as they weren't dating, but the pretending to care? And now the lying? Merida had a good side, of course she had, a side Elsa wanted to keep close to her, but she had a darker side too; that darker side pulled triggers, ended lives, set impulsive behaviour in motion that could do more harm than good. It was the dark side that lured people in, the mysterious charm of a secretive stranger with a pretty damn sexy accent, and it was the good side that kept them trapped, even if they knew better than to stay. But in the end, or so Elsa tried to convince herself, Merida Dunbroch was simply a goddamned fucking idiot.

_Then why_, said a voice in her head, _are you still falling for her?_

She wiped the frost from her hands and started on her way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many questions, fewer answers. Are you intrigued yet?


	5. Chapter 5: The miscalculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna was supposed to be picked up by Elsa, but fate has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story's mostly Merelsa, but I've also promised Kristanna, so here's Kristoff! Okay, he was there in chapter two as well, but that barely counts. I'm not that used to writing him, so I hope this turned out right. Enjoy!

Anna didn't understand her sister. She really didn't. How could Elsa not see how amazing Hans Westerguard was? How could she even imply there was anything dodgy about him? He was such a nice guy!

She leaned backward with a smile and realised too late that she was sitting on the edge of a fountain. A mouth full of water was not what she needed today, and with a yelp and a few unsophisticated jerky movements, Anna saved herself from falling. She straightened up, blinked a couple of times and took a few deep breaths to gain her focus, and sank back into her daydreams as she waited for Elsa to come and pick her up.

During the weekend, somewhere inbetween making winter puns about Elsa's magic and trying to figure out how she could pry information out of Merida, Anna had spent a good amount of time agonizing over Hans and whatever he thought of her. What if he hated her now because she'd declined his offer of a tour around the school? What if he wanted nothing to do with her anymore? Could it be he'd found someone more interesting over the course of the weekend? And what if he wouldn't want her because she'd been… a little sweaty back when they last talked, or what if he hadn't wanted to tell her he was, in fact, pissed because she'd slammed into him like an uncoordinated swine?

She'd had so many fears, but when she found herself engrossed in a conversation with her prince when she went back to school on monday, none of her suspicions were confirmed. Hans, with a smile as sharp as his charm, had bought her chocolate during their lunch break, and with that delicious voice of his, he'd asked once again if he could give her a tour around the school. His eyes had shone with a certain insecurity, as if he were afraid she would say no (she wasn't even sure if she was capable of giving him that answer), and it looked so cute and adorable that Anna had almost died on the spot.

So she'd gone with him, listening to him as they walked through the building. When he'd drawn her closer as they went, close enough for her to take in his scent (citrus?), her heart stopped beating for half a minute, and Anna still found herself wondering if the boy's lips tasted as good as he smelled. She was sure that would be the case, and in that moment, she'd have given everything for him to keep her close just a little longer, his fingertips brushing over her shoulder.

Yes, Hans was a wonderful guy, so sweet and hansome and caring. He'd _listened_ to her, even if she'd mostly spent their time together blabbering and venting about trying to start a new life with a sister she couldn't seem to figure out. Well, when she wasn't too busy mentally gushing over his hotness, anyway. But he'd smiled at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement, and he listened and he bought her chocolates and it felt so good to be with him and-

Deep breaths. Calm down.

Anna forced herself to snap out of her sweet memories and tried to focus on the present. She didn't need 'infatuation-induced heart attack' to be her cause of death. She looked around instead, trying to find the rather dark shade of blue belonging to her sister's car.

Anna's spot on the fountain edge had been strategically chosen. She sat opposite of her school's parking lot and had a magnificent view of whatever was going on over there, her school looming in the distance. To her disappointment, the parking lot remained as it had been before: cold, quiet, grey, and empty for the most part. Elsa was nowhere to be found.

Anna glanced at her watch and scrunched up her nose as she read the time. How long had she been sitting here? Twenty minutes? School had been over for a while now and Elsa should've been there to pick her. Could something have happened to her? Fear crept up in Anna's throat, rendering her unable to speak. Maybe someone had hurt her sister while she worked some kind of stupid assignment and she was dying in an alley somewhere.

Or she'd simply forgotten about Anna. Her little sister wasn't important enough.

Messed up as it was, Anna wasn't entirely sure which option she preferred.

Five minutes later, she decided she'd had enough of waiting for a car that wouldn't come. She sighed and took out her phone. She'd found Elsa's phone number soon enough and swallowed hard as she began to hear the familiar beeping.

_"Anna?"_

Relief washed over her as she heard her sister's voice, but it came mixed with a tiny sting of anger. Elsa sounded tired and a little distant, probably had a bad connection, but she also sounded _fine_.

Option two it was, then.

"Elsa, I've been waiting for, what, half an hour? Where are you?"

Anna thought she could make out some muffled curse words, but she couldn't say so for sure.

_"Look,"_ Elsa began, "_I'm sorry, I mean it. I tried to… I miscalculated."_

Miscalculated what? Elsa had left the night before to go do… whatever Elsa did, really. She'd hurried away with a few mumbled goodbyes and a distant look in her eyes, running off straight after a late dinner, a light rime trailing after her (God, Anna had to get used to that.). Her sister hadn't specified why she'd be leaving out of the blue, choosing to be vague and cryptic once again, and Anna knew better than to ask. It had to be some kind of job, which meant it was classified, so the younger girl kept her mouth shut in advance. She'd hoped Elsa would stick around to spend what little remained of the evening with her, but of course, it was too much to hope for.

_"I thought I could be back in time if I left yesterday, but apparently… not,"_ Elsa continued, sounding frustrated and still so distant. It was then that Anna realized her sister was in a car.

"Elsa, don't tell me you're using your _phone_ while driving." It was off topic, but Anna couldn't help pointing it out. How could Elsa do something like that when their parents had been killed in a car crash only weeks ago? It baffled Anna, like almost everything about her not-so-dead sister did.

_"Relax. It's a handsfree call,"_ Elsa said. _"I wasn't planning on ending up like…"_ she didn't finish the sentence, but Anna understood.

"You better not be planning anything of the sort," Anna warned, shifting on the fountain's edge. The stone felt cold beneath her and its hardness began to irritate her. She snuck a glance at the sky and saw grey clouds. "But where are you and why?"

A sigh._ "I'm retracing steps. Sort of."_

"That's vague."

_"I'm driving down the same roads Mom and Dad took on their trip, is what I mean. To check if there's anything weird or suspicious, along the way and at the spot they died. And I went to the police in Göteborg, but there wasn't anything they could tell me."_

"Hold on, you're in _Sweden_?"

Anna could almost feel her sister tense. _"I told you, I miscalculated. I thought I could be there to pick you up if I left as quickly as possible yesterday, but I guess I… I… sorry."_

Okay, so Elsa hadn't intended to abandon her like this. She'd actually gone out of her way to make sure she _could_ be there when Anna needed her.

But still she wasn't there, as if she was still dead and gone, nothing but a memory. And it hurt. God, it hurt more than Anna wanted to admit. Elsa was _trying_, and that was fantastic and more than she'd ever dared to hope for, but the trying and the failing and the constant apologizing… was it wrong of Anna to want something better? Something more? Now it all felt like Elsa did care about her, but only just enough to stay on decent terms and nothing more. Elsa was trying, sure, but not hard enough.

What a selfish thought. Anna shook it away as fast as she could, a little embarassed and ashamed she'd even let it enter her mind. Damn it, Elsa was the only family she had left, and they were only starting to get to know eachother, and they needed more time to heal. Yes, time would mend their relationship; she shouldn't be so impatient.

She put a damaged smile on her face, one her sister didn't see, and did her utmost best to sound as normal as possible. "It can't be helped, I guess. Where are you now?"

There was a brief pause. Anna assumed it meant Elsa was attempting to figure out her whereabouts. _"Uddevalla,"_ was the answer she eventually got.

Anna groaned. "Yeah, that's gonna take you at least two more hours to get here."

_"I'm sorry,"_ Elsa muttered. Another apology on a long list. _"Can you… drive home with a friend?"_

Negative. Moana had left after school ended, like the rest of the normal people who didn't have magic spy sisters to wait for. She wasn't an option, and neither was Hans, though Anna wouldn't have passed up an opportunity to spend more time with him. He, too, had left her. She was all alone.

But Elsa didn't need to know that. Anna figured her sister was already beating herself up over the whole thing, and though a dark part of her whispered that her older sibling almost deserved it, the more rational and empathetic parts of her agreed there was no use in adding to Elsa's misery.

"Yeah. I think I could ask Moana, or Hans," she replied.

_"Ah. Two-minute loverboy."_

There was nothing to the comment. There wasn't. It was said in a neutral tone, there was no jab, no accusation, not a single indication that Elsa had meant anything at all with it. It was the kind of offhanded comment that didn't even need a lot of scrutinization; the kind that could be described as an wannabe joke or a statement that wasn't all that well-thought out, but ended up being neither of those things. Elsa had made an observation and shared it, she'd given Hans a nickname, that was all.

Anna knew all of that. But why did it… irk her so much? Even though she knew it wasn't one, it still _felt_ like an attack, an underlying hostility towards Hans, and indirectly, towards her too. She felt her anger surge and grit her teeth.

"What do you even know about love?" She blurted the question without even realising she did at first.

_"What…?"_

"I asked, what do you even know about love?" Anna continued, narrowing her eyes at no one in particular. She was already regretting her decision to take up this hostile of a tone, but it felt so _good_ to let at least a little bit of her frustration out. She couldn't keep bottling up her emotions all the damn time, could she? If she didn't let go of them every once in a while, they would fill her up entirely until she would one day explode.

_"I don't think-"_

"I mean, did you ever stop to take a look at your own love life? As if you're setting such a great example yourself."

_"Newsflash, sis,"_ Elsa hissed with venom in her voice, _"maybe that's the moral of the story here: don't be like me."_

Anna didn't know what to say to it. First and foremost because it hadn't been what she'd expected to hear. She'd been waiting for a jab in her direction, something spiteful aimed at her and her alone, but Elsa's comment had been mostly… self-deprecating. And Anna had no clue what to do with it.

She stood up and willed herself to calm down a bit. What was she doing? She had no desire to fight with Elsa or antagonize her. All she wanted was to rebuild the relationship with her sister, which was difficult enough as it was. Stupid discussions like this one were far from what she needed to achieve her goal. She bit back a frustrated groan. Why did their lives have to be so complicated?

"Are you still there?" she asked quietly after what had to be a solid minute of total radio silence. She wouldn't have been surprised if Elsa had ended the call.

_"Yes."_

Anna almost sighed in relief. "Look," she began, trying to retrieve some of her signature positivity, "I don't want to argue with you, so let's not, okay? We don't… we don't need to talk about this."

_"Hm."_ It didn't sound so convinced. As if Elsa knew they did indeed need to talk about certain things, but wasn't entirely ready to do so. Anna could accept that. She didn't feel so ready herself either.

"Hey," she said, hoping that changing the subject would lighten the mood, "you know what? I'll forgive you for being late if you stop at McDonald's and get me something! I want a McChicken. Oh, and a chocolate milkshake."

_"Oh, uh…"_ the confusion in Elsa's voice was palpable. _"I think… yeah, I can… do that? Sure?"_

"And get yourself something nice too. You sound like you need it."

_"Yeah. Right. Of course."_ Elsa seemed to regain the ability to form coherent sentences, short as they may have been. She must've been thrilled at the idea of being able to buy Anna's forgiveness with junk food. _"I'll… I'll see you later."_

Anna could almost feel the last 'I'm sorry' her sister was doubtlessly holding back, but she didn't mention it. All she did was say goodbye and sigh in frustration as she hung up the phone. She looked up at the sky, at grey clouds ready to make it rain, and was reminded of the fact that she still needed to get home somehow.

She searched the pockets of her coat for cash, but found nothing. She'd left her debit card at home too and now felt regret over not taking it with her to school. She'd thought she'd have no need of it, but she'd thought wrong, not for the first time. Without money, she wouldn't be able to take a bus or a tram ride home.

Well, she could always try to board without a ticket, but if she got caught, which wasn't all that implausible with her amazing luck, she'd be in trouble. She would be fined for it, and then Elsa would have to pay, and though Anna would certainly offer to pay herself, it still meant Elsa would _know_ her little sister had lied to her about being able to drive home with a friend.

She squared her shoulders and readied herself for a long walk home. With one last glance at the parking lot, an idle attempt to find a car that wasn't there, Anna turned around to leave.

Wait.

She turned back as if stung, her eyes finding the few cars that still stood in the parking lot. There, next to red-brownish car parked in the corner of the lot, stood a classmate of hers, fumbling with his keys. He wasn't hard to miss, with his blond hair and tall, muscular body. Anna wasn't entirely sure what his name was, but she knew he'd been eating carrots in the back of the classroom a week ago. He was the Carrot Guy.

It felt really stupid to ask a classmate whose name she hadn't even bothered to remember for help, but it beat walking home in the rain, and she could at least try and ask him if she could drive home with him. The worst-case scenario was a simple 'no' for an answer, but there was always the chance her luck would take a turn for the better.

Anna rushed in his direction like a tiny tornado with freckles and pigtail braids. "Hi! Hi there! Sorry, do you have a minute?"

Carrot Guy startled out of his thoughts. He took one look at Anna bolting to reach him and fumbled with his keys faster, as if he wanted to make a quick escape.

"Hey," she began as she came to a halt next to him, panting heavily from the physical exercise. "Hi. Can I ask you something weird?"

Carrot Guy frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then opened it again to say: "uh… go ahead?"

"This is going to sound really stupid, but… my sister was supposed to come pick me up, but now she's kind of in Sweden, which is very inconvenient, and all my friends are already gone and I don't have any money with me so I can't take a bus or a train or-"

Carrot Guy motioned for her to slow down. "Woah, woah, don't forget to breathe now. What point are you even trying to make?"

Anna gave him the sweetest smile she owned, the one that always convinced her parents to give her extra chocolate after dinner, and hoped it would work. "If it's not too much trouble for you, could I maybe, kind of… drive home with you? It's okay if you say I can't."

Her classmate looked absolutely baffled, blinking fast. Anna continued to smile, even though it became uncomfortable, but she set herself up for disappointment. Carrot Guy had no reason to help her, a girl who didn't even know his name, and after her incessant, confusing explanation of her current predicament, she wouldn't be surprised if he wanted nothing to do with a rambling lunatic like her.

"I don't take people places," he finally said, almost hesitant.

At least he had the decency not to call her a crazy bitch. His rejection didn't feel like it was personal. It wasn't anything she'd done wrong, Carrot Guy simply didn't take people places. Yeah. That was fine. It had been what she'd expected to hear.

And yet her shoulders slumped and her smile faded as disappointment washed over her and a voice in the back of her mind told her she'd be all alone once again. She felt her face reddening and looked away from Carrot Guy, tearing her eyes from his soft brown gaze. "I understand," she mumbled to the pavement, "thanks anyway. I'll just walk home."

She turned around and walked away without another look, biting her lip. Her day had started out so well, but then her luck had left her and the world laughed loudly in her face. Could it get any worse than that? She ignored the tears pricking behind her eyes and focused on the rain, which began to fall from the sky and sent drops of water running down her sleeves. Was Carrot Guy looking at her now, his eyes burning holes into her back, trained at the miserable figure of a girl with a bad day? Was he snickering when he thought she wasn't looking?

She told herself she really had to stop thinking such depressing thoughts.

"Wait."

Anna turned on her heels, her eyes wandering back to Carrot Guy. His back was turned to her; she couldn't see his face, but he was leaning on his car as if he needed support, and his voice sounded as if he still felt conflicted about whatever he was going to say. He never looked her in the eyes, but said: "get in the car. I'll drive you home."

It took her by surprise. "No joke?" She asked, keeping the incoming wave of relief at bay a little longer. Though his apparent change of heart warmed her up inside, she did not want to rely too much on that warmth yet.

"Yeah, no joke." He spoke the words as if he needed to assure himself rather than her.

Anna's eyes lit up as she felt the old, happy version of her return. "Thanks," she told Carrot Guy as she stepped into his car, making sure he knew she meant it. "You really saved me here... uh…"

Shit, what _was _his name? She had a vague memory of teachers calling on him a couple of times, and Moana may have mentioned his name during a break once or twice, but it hadn't lingered in Anna's mind. She couldn't recall the few voices that had spoken of Carrot Guy's identity. Chris? Chris-something?

"Uh… Christopher?" She tried, hoping she wasn't too far off. Fuck, what if his name wasn't even close to that one? That would be awkward.

"Kristoff," he corrected gruffly as he started his car. When he drove away, the plush reindeer pendant hanging from his rear-view mirror shook, as if doing a little dance.

"Oh. Sorry. I was close, though," she said, flashing him a grin. "I'm Anna, but you've heard my introduction last week. Hey, that pendant you've got is so cute!" She reached out to stroke the reindeer's fur, but Kristoff smacked her hand away. He hadn't put much of his strength into it and the reprimand didn't hurt, but it startled her all the same.

"Hands off of Sven," he warned her. "How would _you_ like it if people randomly started touching you?"

"Not so good?" Anna said with a frown, wondering if he was actually serious. "But fine, I'll respect Sven and his privacy. I like his name."

"Oh. Thanks."

She noticed the slightest hint of a blush on Kristoff's cheeks, as if he was embarassed to admit he'd given a fake reindeer a name. Truth be told, it was almost… cute? Adorable? It surprised her, especially since he came across as such a big, intimidating guy.

"Where do I need to drop you off, anyway?" Kristoff asked as they stopped at a traffic light.

Could she give him her address? Her mother had always told her not to tell strange guys where she lived, and Anna didn't doubt Elsa would repeat the exact same thing when asked. Then again, Kristoff wasn't a stranger, but her classmate, and if she couldn't trust her _classmates_, the world would officially have gone to shit. So she told him where to go, pointing left and right as she told him which roads he had to follow, with only a few hasty corrections here and there.

She kept talking to him, to make up for his silence. "It's cool that you have a driver's license, you know? I've been thinking of taking classes myself, but I'm kind of still adjusting to this city and my new life and I'm so busy trying to figure my sister out- hey, do you have siblings? Annoying sisters or brothers?"

And Kristoff replied, providing short answers to her questions, allowing her to learn more about him. His full name was Kristoff Bjorgman and he lived with his foster family, his parents and the many children they had which he considered to be siblings, and he told her how the reindeer pendant had been the last gift his father had given him before he'd left, and hey, Anna said, looks like we've both lost parents, then, and it was nice to talk to him, even if he wasn't nearly as talkative as she was.

"So is it fun, so far? Living with your sister?" He asked it as if he wasn't used to inquiring about another person's daily life, and yet it didn't feel wrong that he'd asked.

"It's…complicated," Anna said with something of a sigh. She gave herself a stern reminder that she had to avoid mentioning Elsa's job or magic. "It's… I need to try and connect with her, you know? We used to be so close, but now we're… not. Because of reasons. And we can try to fix our damaged relationship, I'm sure of it, but I'm still not sure _how_, so I guess I need to keep trying without giving up. You get me?"

Kristoff stared at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. When he realized what he was doing, he closed his mouth, shook his head and turned his attention back to the road. "A bit of an idealist, aren't you?"

"There's nothing wrong with a little hope for the future."

"I suppose you're right."

"But to answer your question, yeah, I like to think I'm having fun most of the time," Anna continued. "There are so many new people to meet and secrets to uncover, and it can be frustrating, but it's also an opportunity, so whatever's going to happen, I'm going to give it all I got and make the best of what I'll get." She glanced at Kristoff, who nodded along to her words. "You're not much of a talker, are you? I think you and Elsa would get along well."

Elsa would probably like Kristoff better than Hans, she supposed. He was a bit introverted, as if humans as a species made him wary (who did that remind Anna of?), but he was friendly, and sweet in his own way. And he was cute, she noticed, with his shaggy blond hair and his clumsy big hands and the light freckles on his face. Okay, he wasn't at Hans' level of perfect and hot, but there was something about him that made Anna feel… safe. She hoped she could add him to her list of friends after this, or that she could at least keep in touch with him.

When they reached the apartment building Anna lived in, Kristoff parked his car, and as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, he said: "Here we are."

"Yep," Anna confirmed, but she remained seated, staring at the few raindrops rolling down Kristoff's windshield. She wasn't sure why she didn't simply thank him and leave, but she told herself it was because she wanted to postpone the last short walk home through the rain.

"You're right," Kristoff said, staring at Sven the reindeer pendant. "I'm not much of a talker." He chuckled. "My family says I need to socialize more."

Anna gave him a grin. "You've been nice to me today, Kristoff. I really appreciate it, did I tell you that?"

"Nine times, give or take."

"Anyways, I owe you one, and I'm _very_ good at socializing. So if you ever want some much-needed social practice…" she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car's door. "… I'm always available!"

Kristoff gave her a smile. The tiniest one she'd ever seen, which looked strange on a guy as big as him, but it still made her feel appreciated. "And if you ever need a ride, I guess I wouldn't mind driving you places. Not much, at least."

When Anna waved him goodbye and watched him leave, his car disappearing amongst many others in Oslo's street, she recalled the many events of her day, the good ones and the bad. It hadn't gone according to plan, not really, but she'd at least been able to spend time with her crush and made a new friend.

The idea brightened her spirits as she made for Elsa's apartment. Happiness filled her once again, and she went as far as giving Mr. Weselton a cheerful greeting. He'd looked as if he would call an exorcist to deal with her, but she didn't care, not anymore. When the clouds began to clear and the sun shone through the rain, Anna searched the sky for a rainbow, and found one hidden in the grey.

She'd have to put in some effort. She had to make this new life her own, had to embrace everything it threw at her. There would be obstacles along the way, but she would conquer them, until every secret had been unravelled, until all that was broken had been fixed again.

And then, she promised herself, she would be fine. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just out of curiosity: what are some things you either like or dislike about this story? It would be interesting to know, and it might help me improve the story as a whole.


	6. Chapter 6: Crash and burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa dives deeper into her parents' accident, but not everything goes according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have forgotten how to write short chapters. This story almost has more words than both of my other fics and we're not even halfway here. Well, guess we're in for the long run, huh?

On tuesday, Hiccup finally came through. When Elsa opened up her laptop that morning after listening to Anna's detailed account of her dream adventures, she'd spotted the bold font indicating a new email almost instantly. She'd told herself she'd focus on her sister first, but she'd still opened it and skimmed over the words, hoping they could satisfy her curiosity:

_Because you asked so nicely._   
_\- H._

She'd grimaced at his sarcasm until it hurt. Then, she'd called for Anna to hurry up a little, because really, how long could combing hair take and did she _want_ to be late for school or something? Anna had come rushing to her, sporting a rather messy attempt at an updo, and Elsa would have offered to help her with it if they hadn't been so late, but they didn't have time for that, so all she'd done was roll her eyes as they sped to the car and readied themselves for Oslo traffic during rush hour.

After Anna had all but jumped out of the car when they'd arrived, with an 'Elsa, remember, tonight's pasta needs to be edible, okay?', Elsa had had all the time in the world to see for herself what Hiccup had sent her. She'd driven back home, thought about her mostly absent cooking skills for a bit, and plopped down at the kitchen table with her laptop and a far too large and lazy cat draped over her shoulders.

She'd gone straight back to her inbox, focusing on her task as well as someone with six kilograms of Norwegian Forest cat weighing down on them possibly could, and she'd taken a good look at the files Hiccup had sent her, the quiet whirring of her laptop the only noise disturbing her.

'Crash.rar', she'd realized quickly, contained a variety of files, ranging from the few police reports on her parents' accident to audio files in which the group of hunters who'd found the wreckage of Agdar and Idun Arens' car detailed what they'd seen. They spoke of the smell of oil and smoke, of how one of them had vomited upon finding the car's wreck and the corpses, of how they'd done their best to remain calm and call the alarm number without panicking too much. Elsa had no desire to listen to such a detailed account of her parents' horrific end, didn't want to know how something as simple as a trip to Sweden could end with their painful mutilation and end, but she listened anyway, trying her best to keep her eyes dry.

She hadn't been to the funeral. Such a small, insignificant thing, but she hadn't gone, and though she knew she couldn't have waltzed into church with a 'surprise! I'm their dead daughter, but it's fine', the guilt still ate at her, following her around like a nasty stench that refused to be washed away. She hadn't been there for Anna. She'd left her younger sister all alone to eat that far too dry cake that always seemed to be there at funerals, and it had been Anna who had accepted a few dozen muttered condolences and shook the sweaty hands of attendees who had probably known Agdar and Idun better than Elsa had done, messed up as that may have been.

She'd decided to stop abusing her ears with more audio files that only brought tears to her eyes, and turned her attention to the copious amounts of video footage her colleague had dug up. Videos of various roads along the route her parents took whenever they made their way to Sweden, a route even she could remember vividly; her father had always taken the scenic, quiet roads instead of the highway, even if it was slower. Something about 'inhaling the fresh nature air', though there wasn't much fresh air to inhale with the whole family cooped up in the car with no chance to even smell those pine trees he kept raving about. Now, Elsa wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the memory.

In any case, the security cameras along the roads had been able to provide her with hours and hours of footage from the days and hours and minutes before and after the unfortunate accident. Elsa had found some emotional support chocolate, taken a deep breath, and she'd started sifting through it, studying the videos with all the concentration she possessed. She watched them, sped them up, slowed them down, took in every single detail she could find until it felt like all of her brain cells had evaporated.

She'd checked Google Maps, kept Streetview open, surfed sites allowing her to find license plates and done research of the area in which the accident had taken place: were such accidents common, and if so, why? Did the area have a high level of criminal activity? What about the state of the roads, the security, the wildlife wandering around? There were so many details to think about, so many options to consider, and Elsa wasn't even sure where the tedious process of gathering information would get her. Perhaps it had been an accident, a _real_ accident, that and nothing more. There was always the chance that she'd allowed her paranoia to get the best of her, that she'd let the whole ordeal hurt her more than was necessary.

But if it _wasn't _an accident…

Elsa had made up her mind. She would unravel every possible mystery surrounding her parents' death, if there were any. In the best case scenario, she wouldn't be able to dig up anything suspicious and she'd move on with her life as best as she could. However, if she _did _manage to uncover anything shady, there was a very real possibility her parents had been murdered. But who would do such a thing, and why? Would whoever was behind it come for her next?

_Would they try to hurt Anna?_

No. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't give anyone a chance. If some unfortunate soul got it into their mind to even try such a thing, they'd end up with a severe case of frostbite. She had to do anything in her power to keep her sister safe… and that meant working her way through hours of footage, doing what she did best: gathering information. Listening. Watching.

An easy sacrifice.

She'd only taken one real break, to pick up her sister from school ("Hans bought me a bouquet of red dahlias today! They smell so nice!" Huh, now Mr. Perfect was showing off), but upon her sister's safe return, she'd gone right back to the task at hand, now joined by Olaf who settled on her lap. Anna had the privilege of being able to sit down with a pile of chocolate and a bit of English homework, but Elsa had more complicated work to do. She'd paid no attention to the dull, pounding ache in her brain and she'd returned to her mission, searching for anything the police had missed or ignored. She worked, and though it hadn't provided her with any tangible results, she told herself she was at least trying to make progress.

But when she went to type the umpteenth street name of the day into Google Maps, she found herself without a Wifi connection. Alarm bells began ringing in her head almost in an instant. She removed her gaze from her laptop screen and turned to her sister, who flopped down on the couch, texting, all the while munching on yet another chocolate bar.

"Anna."

"Hm?" The younger girl gestured for Elsa to wait as she swallowed her bite of chocolate. "What's wrong?"

"Is your Wifi working?"

Anna looked on the verge of pretending she hadn't heard the question. Elsa made a mental note of her sister's rapid eye movement, her nostrils flaring slightly, the way her chewing slowed. Anna was nervous and bad at hiding it.

"I don't seem to have any trouble with it. Is there a problem?"

Elsa stood up, almost causing Olaf to fall down. She muttered a hasty apology before shifting her attention to her sister with narrowed eyes. "You'll need to switch to mobile data for a few minutes. I have to try and reboot the modem."

"Oh, you do?" Anna gave her a sheepish smile, baring chocolate-stained teeth. "I mean… you could… wait, right?"

"For the signal to return? I'd be wasting my time." 

She was about to leave the room to find the modem, when her sister made a run towards her to stand in the doorway and block her path. Anna crossed her arms and leaned against the doorpost, still sporting that same sheepish smile as she struggled not to lose her balance.

"Oooor you could _not_ go straight for the modem… well, you're not straight, so I guess you can't really go straight for it, but that's kind of not the point I'm trying to make." Anna laughed, but it sounded more nervous than joyful.

"You're trying to make a point?"

Elsa watched as her sister frowned. "Did I say I was trying to make a point?"

"You did."

"Disregard that. And leave the modem be, okay?"

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. "Anna, did you unplug the modem's power?"

Anna's face fell and she began to fidget with a chocolate wrapper. "Now that's just unfair. How'd you figure it out?"

"I'm tired, but not stupid, and what _you _aren't is subtle. Now, could you please tell me what you're trying to achieve with this?"

Her sister made a few insecure gestures, as if she wasn't sure what to say. "Well, I guess, uh, you kind of answered your own question there. It's, you know, you need to…" her voice trailed off, hesitant.

Elsa blinked a couple of times. "I need to what?"

"You're _tired,_" Anna continued, finding her words. "You said it yourself! You need to take a break, I mean it. You've been messing around on your laptop for, what, seven hours?"

"… Ten."

"You. Break. Now."

Elsa had to give it to her that she did have a point. All of her hard work hadn't provided her with any groundbreaking revelations and if she wanted to solve the possible mystery of the crash, she had to stay sharp. A break, some rest, would improve both her morale and her mental state. She turned around and took a chocolate bar off the pile Anna had amassed on the coffee table.

"I… I guess?"

Anna crossed her arms, something of a hurt expression on her face. Elsa hated to admit it, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. And how could she take proper care of a sister whose actions she couldn't understand? She listened to what Anna had to say as dutifully as she could, and she kept an eye out so she'd spot any trouble her sister might get herself into, and yet… what if she wasn't doing enough? What if she could _never_ do enough? What if she'd destroyed every chance at a normal relationship with Anna the moment she'd vowed to run away and never return?

All the actions she couldn't undo had caused damage, but she was unable to find the tools to start the process of repairing. All that was left for her to do, was her best. And in the end, there was always that looming sense of dread, whispering in a voice of ice that her best could never be enough.

"But why do you care if I take a break or not?"

Elsa couldn't help but ask the question. Why would Anna go as far as shutting down the Wifi to make sure she was okay? She knew Anna cared about her, more than was good for the girl, but still… what had she ever done for her little sister to deserve even the slightest amount of affection? Elsa didn't understand, as it was with so many other things concerning Anna. She didn't understand how her sister could stomach this whole new life she'd been thrown into, how she adapted to it with so much ease, how she resisted the urge to turn around and run away as if it was nothing. As if Elsa and the world and life itself hadn't screwed her over a million times.

And all Anna did was smile like she did so often, without a care in the world. "You're my sister. If I let you work until you inevitably burn out… that would hurt."

Was it that simple? _Could_ it be that simple? Anna wanted what was best for her, the same way Elsa wanted what was best for Anna. But how could she say those things so easily, in such a casual way?

There were many things Elsa had wanted to know in her life, but as it turned out, in the end, knowing how to connect with her sister really was the only thing worth knowing, wasn't it? Too bad it remained a mystery to her even now.

"Thanks. You're absolutely right." Elsa hoped the few words were enough to convey what she felt, but knew they weren't. She unwrapped the chocolate bar she still held, took a bite and hoped it would ease her mind.

"As always," Anna said almost softly with a wink, flopping back down on the couch. She grabbed a few pillows and began rearranging them, so she could lie down as if she were in bed. "I mean, this is the life, right?" she said as she worked, her eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. "Chocolate, soft pillows, fluffy cats, a starry night if we're lucky. Work is one thing, but there are more important things in the world."

Elsa's headache flared up again, but she managed to smile through the pain. A slight smile, barely more than a twitch of her mouth, but she knew Anna hadn't missed it. Her sister was smarter and wiser than one might have thought of her; she could be a bit airheaded, but Anna knew and saw things others overlooked. When the cats got hungry, Anna knew in an instant as if she'd felt their hunger with them. She listened to everything Elsa said, and though she didn't take everything she heard to heart, she read between the lines without any difficulty. And when she'd taken one look at Elsa, when she saw her pale face, her tired look, the messy state of her hair that wasn't quite characteristic of her older sister, she'd picked up all of those signals and decided to work with what she had as best as she could.

"There are more important things in the world. More important people." _Like you_.

Anna settled on the couch and scooped Olaf off the floor as he walked by expecting no such thing. It led to a cacophony of confused mewling on Olaf's part and comforting shushing on Anna's. Elsa watched, took it all in. Was there anything she could do to make Anna's night better? Anything she could try to please her?

There was one thing.

"Anna?"

"Hm?"

"Look, seeing as I'm taking a break… if you wanted to talk to me about, well, anything, or, I don't know, nothing at all, I guess I…" she took a deep breath. "… have time now."

Talking to Anna meant giving her a clearer view of the person Elsa Arens really was. A terrifying idea. If Anna knew who she was talking to, if she knew every single bad decision Elsa had made, if she knew every flaw, every crack in her sister's disguise of perfection… she'd see Elsa, the real one, the version of her that didn't walk through life cloaked in mysteries and half-truths, the version Elsa herself had almost forgotten. The last remains of a girl aged eight and everything that girl had morphed into.

Anna wouldn't like what she saw.

When Elsa looked her sister in the eyes, she realised she'd never seen someone sport such a conflicted look in her life. She could see how tempted Anna was, how drawn to the idea of subjecting Elsa to the interrogation of a lifetime. There was a hunger in those eyes, a hunger for knowledge, the longing to satisfy a curiosity that had been awakened the moment Elsa first spoke to her at the police station in Bergen.

Answers were all Anna had wanted from the start and she'd been given a chance to receive them. Elsa forced an uncomfortable smile as she watched the thoughts race through her sister's mind, an incoherent mess trying to make sense of itself. She waited in a deafening, agonizing silence, for an answer she wasn't sure she wanted to hear. Anna had her chance. She'd be a fool not to take it.

"No."

Relief came over Elsa, but a deep confusion came with it.

"What?"

"I said no." Anna shook her head for extra emphasis. "I didn't force you to take a break to get you to talk to me. I did it because I care about your mental health. And the way I see it, talking to me won't help you now. It'll only stress you out more."

Stupid, stupid sweet Anna, the girl who knew too much about her sister's emotions. Elsa snuck a quick glance at a ceiling, at the few tiny snowflakes that began drifting down, and she sighed. "You're sure you don't want to talk?"

"Positive."

"In that case… I think I'm going outside for a bit. To sort out some thoughts."

Anna nodded, a compassionate expression on her face as she gazed at her sister. She cuddled Olaf closer. "It's fine. Take your time."

"I'll be back in… half an hour?"

"Sure."

Elsa made for the front door, leaving Anna behind in the living room. If she left the apartment, perhaps warmth could return to it. "See you later."

"Elsa?"

"What?" She turned around, for one last look at her sister.

Anna gave her an almost sad smile. It looked… off on her usually so cheerful face. "You know I can't be okay if the people I care about aren't, right?"

Elsa contemplated that for a second. Goddamn it, she'd known, hadn't she? She'd known Anna gave a damn about her health, or at least tried to. And all she'd done was let her sister down once again.

"I… I know."

When Elsa closed the door behind her and found herself standing outside, the whole world around her spun and the pounding in her head continued, as if someone was beating her brain into a bloody pulp. She put on the coat she'd snatched off the rack in her haste to get outside; not that she needed it, but walking around in a T-shirt on a chilly september night would be questionable. 

She leaned against her front door for a good minute and closed her eyes, until all that remained were the noises of a city at night. Traffic, cars speeding by. Rain, pattering down on dark streets and night-shrouded buildings. Teenagers shouting, music seeping out of a club close by. All of that, and total darkness. She tried not to think about anything, tried to concentrate on anything but her headache, to no avail. God, she was so tired. Going to bed instead of outside might have been the wiser option, she figured, but there was no way back now. Anna would wonder why she was back so soon.

Anna. Fuck, Anna. Why, _why_ did she have to be so good-natured? A small, dark part of Elsa had thought Anna's only reason for turning off the Wifi had been to coax her into a conversation. Of course she'd known that wasn't true, but she'd expected it, and her subconscious had run with it and prompted her to ask Anna if she wanted to talk.

Elsa wasn't proud of the thought, but that dark part of her had wanted Anna's reason for doing what she'd done to be something as selfish as a forced conversation. If that had been the case, Elsa could have brushed it off and let it go. But Anna's actual reason had been selfless, affectionate, so _nice_, that it burrowed itself straight into her head and heart and refused to be removed. Now, it served as yet another confirmation of the thoughts she'd been entertaining for a while now. 

_She's doing her best to fix the past, and you're trying so hard, you're trying so fucking hard, but there's no way you can ever do enough._

Elsa pushed herself away from the door and promptly began on her descent down the stairs. A nice evening walk, yes, that would help to resolve the chaos her mind had created. She didn't know how fast to leave the building. A sudden feeling of suffocation stabbed her in the back, as if she'd gained acute claustrophobia, and all she still longed for was a bit of freedom and the idea she had the whole city to herself. 

She took a deep breath, taking in the fresh, humid air. With every depressing thought, she walked a little faster, sloshing through puddles left by a cruel rain hammering down on her. 

Anna would continue to be nice to her. Elsa would continue to try and repay the favour. She'd fail. She'd try. She'd fail again. An endless road of trying so hard and continuing to fail, until every broken piece of their relationship had absolutely shattered, and Anna would pack her bags and go back to Bergen if she was smart, she'd go right ahead and leave Elsa alone like she should have done in the first place, or she'd stay, she'd stay until she'd end up eaten alive by malevolent magic and a sister who'd never been anything but a disappointment to her, and every tiny sacrifice she'd made for naught would come back to haunt her until the world ended and there was nothing left but darkness.

Elsa didn't like any of these thoughts. She despised them and the way they made her feel: miserable, pathetic, like a waste of time and space. But the thoughts were necessary, a defense mechanism killing her in the slowest way possible, a means to keep everyone around her safe. The thoughts could help her push people away if she needed them out of her vicinity, the thoughts made that easier. Elsa would suffocate herself without a second thought if it allowed Anna to breathe.

But every time she attempted to keep Anna at an arm's length, every time she tried to keep her from getting hurt, all she did was hurt her in a whole different way. It wasn't what she was used to, it was new. She had to adapt. She had to find a way to make their broken family work, or she had to convince Anna she'd have a better life with Kai and Gerda. But every time Elsa felt like pushing her little sister away, she tried and failed.

Trying. Failing. Was that all she was good for?

She realised she was out of breath and soaked to the bone. Taking shelter under a supermarket canopy, she stopped to come up with a proper plan of action. She needed to clear her mind. She needed to think about something she understood. A distraction. She glanced at the raindrops on her clothes and hands freezing slowly upon contact and wiped the rime off her body as best as she could, shoving her hands into her pockets to try and limit the damage done.

She heard something rustle. Confused, she pulled a crumpled post-it note out of her pocket. It didn't take her a long time to figure out what it was. She recognized the big, messy letters, the chicken scratch handwriting she'd gotten adept at deciphering over the years.

_It's a date, m'lady_.

Tomorrow, around this time, she'd be at the Port of Oslo, to work on the special assignment with Merida. She hoped _that _would turn out fine, at least. The last thing Elsa needed was another mystery to lose much-needed sleep over. On the other hand, it wasn't like she needed to work on the special assignment alone. Merida would be there to help as well as she could, and even though Elsa knew from experience that the redhead wasn't the type for doing a lot of thinking, her assistance would be appreciated.

She considered walking over to Merida's place. If she was lucky, her colleague would be able to help her clear the fog around her parents' death. Merida wasn't always the sharpest, but Elsa often got so tangled up in details she started overlooking things, and the redhead was quite gifted at pointing out the slight issues Elsa herself had missed. There was a chance Merida could be useful…

No. She decided against it rather fast. Merida had her own problems to worry about, such as the disappearance of her friend Rapunzel. The redhead hadn't bothered Elsa with that, so it would only be fair if she also kept her own problems to herself. Besides, asking Merida for _help _was not something she fancied doing. It hurt what little pride she still had left, and it would force her to confront certain feelings she'd have preferred to forget about. No, Merida would do well to stay out of this. Elsa could fix her own messes, thank you very much.

She glanced at the post-it, at the address scribbled on it. Could she…? Hm. It meant working, and the sole reason she was out in the rain was taking a break. Anna probably wouldn't be pleased if she found out, but then again, what Anna didn't know couldn't hurt her, and she wouldn't know if Elsa was subtle about it.

She memorized the address, put the post-it back in her pocket and braved the rain to make her way to the Port. If she went there now, she'd have a destination, a purpose, a reason to stop whining and wallowing in self-pity and actually get shit done for once. She wouldn't be doing anything major, anyway. All she'd do was scout the area in preparation for tomorrow night: looking for escape routes, checking the locations of security cameras, gaining a better idea of the area and its layout. It would make tomorrow's job easier, she hoped.

As she walked, her thoughts wandered back to the crash. She felt a little guilty about it, because she'd told Anna she'd leave it alone for now, but work was simply what Elsa did best, and the crisp air combined with her new plan of action had cleared her aching mind somewhat. On her way, she went over what she'd heard and seen once more.

She had, indeed, found clues indicating how her parents could have died, suspicious or not. The police had been able to tell her very little; a malfunction in the car's system, a human error, an obstacle on the road. Those had been explanations the officers had provided her, but it had sounded like mere guessing, as if someone had bought their silence. Or, which may have been more likely given their general confusion, they had been given false information, or someone had withheld evidence or facts to hide a crime. None of the footage Hiccup had sent her had been spoken of by any cop she'd talked to. It was a reason to think there was more to the crash than met the eye.

But what could have caused the accident itself? Elsa had seen the footage. The crash hadn't been caught on camera (suspicious in itself), but she'd analyzed every moment leading up to it, and she'd seen her parents drive down many seemingly normal roads.

The most innocent explanation of the accident, she thought, was that her parents' car had swerved off the road as they dodged an animal. She'd seen rabbits in the forests her parents drove through, tiny animals caught on camera, but she'd also spotted a moose at least once. The fact that a group of hunters had discovered what was left of the wrecked car and its occupants was also an indication of large wildlife in the area. If an animal had been the root cause of her parents' death, that would be ideal; it would make the crash a real accident, and _that _would mean there was no immediate threat to her or anyone she cared about.

But of course, there were more factors to consider, such as the cars that had been around, driving on the same roads as her parents. There had been multiple cars that caught her eye, sticking around the one belonging to her parents for longer than necessary. Were those people simply on their way to the same city? Did they need to follow the same roads to reach their destination? Or were Agdar and Idun Arens being tailed as they drove down those roads, which seemed far less quiet than Elsa remembered them to. 

One car in particular, a black Volkswagen, had aroused her suspicion. She hadn't been able to figure out why it bothered her so much. All she could say was that it simply gave her a bad feeling. She'd had an instinctive aversion to the vehicle, as if her subconscious had already found the problem with it. However, she hadn't been able to pinpoint _what _it was about the car that rubbed her the wrong way, and accusing it of murder without a proper argument to try and prove it was out of the question.

The image of that car and whatever could be wrong with it didn't leave her mind until she arrived at her destination. Elsa found herself walking past large ships used for transport and smaller ones for fishing, all consumed by shadows. Her way was lit by bright, cold lights, as she circled around huge machines for unloading the ships' goods, and she had to do her best not to lose herself in a maze of containers in all colours, stacked up expertly as if they were a giant's building blocks. The odor of fish and salt stung, and to Elsa's dismay, the dockyard was still packed with people.

She stayed in the shadows as much as she could, blending in well with the darkness. Quietly, she shoved past workers, tourists, ship passengers, drunkards and junkies hanging out at the Port late at night. So many eyes able to watch her every move, if they wanted to. If Merida and her wanted to stop a theft from taking place, they'd have to watch out they wouldn't be caught in their efforts. Witnesses meant explanations and excuses, and god, she'd always hated the paperwork that came with it.

Eventually, she reached the address Merida had written down for her. A port warehouse, with cold, dirty white walls and an ugly design, meant to be functional rather than pretty. She decided to walk around it, to see if it had a back entrance. She wasn't tired yet and she still had plenty of time; the Port wasn't all that far from her apartment, especially not with the quick pace Elsa tended to maintain.

She'd almost reached the back of the building, when she heard the voice.

"All set for tomorrow, aren't we?"

She bit her tongue and pressed herself against the wall at lightning speed, hiding herself in the shadows. It took her a few seconds to figure out the voice wasn't directed at her. Slowly, without making a sound, she inched forward in the direction it came from.

There _was _a back entrance, and she'd found it. Too bad she had company. Elsa mentally cursed herself for coming to the wrong place at the wrong time. Two men had come out of the building, and they did not look like regular harbour workers at all. These men, with their scarred faces and dark eyes… if her neighbour Weselton already considered Merida a thug, he'd have fainted at the sight of the pair she was watching now.

The man who had spoken before ran his hand through his short, red hair, and turned to his near-identical, eyepatched companion. Elsa assumed they were twin brothers. "The boss will be pleased tomorrow."

She dubbed the speaking man Sideburns for convenience and made mental notes of everything he'd said. She'd forgotten all about the people, the stench of fish, the rain still crashing down. This was information, _useful_ information regarding the special assignment, and she had make sure she took it all in. This was better than she'd hoped for.

The guy with the eyepatch hummed and grinned, patting the gun he carried. Elsa gulped; though she recognized it as a tranquilizer gun rather than a lethal weapon, she didn't want to get acquaintanced with that gun more than was strictly necessary. Still, she came closer, in order to hear what was being said.

Sideburns' booming laughter rang through the night. "You'll see," he told Eyepatch as he gave him a firm slap on the back. "She's going to promote us, I'm willing to bet on that. She's going to make us rich, and our futures will be bright."

Eyepatch, apparently not a man of many words, didn't reply. He shot his brother a questioning look instead. This method of communication seemed to work for Sideburns. "Yeah, of course we're going to buy a fast car. The fanciest one we can find."

What was it with cars tonight? Elsa had managed to shake the image of the black Volkswagen, only for it to resurface now. She resisted the urge to grumble to herself. Even when she worked on a different task, she still couldn't be rid of her parents' death haunting her, and-

Wait.

She almost stumbled when she realised it and she had to hold on to the wall for support. She'd found it. Her evidence. The detail she'd overlooked in her tiredness. The Volkswagen's licence plate was identical to the one on her parents' car. A fake licence plate. The police had lied to her, or they'd lost their data to some malevolent higher force.

Fake licence plate. 'Accident'. Cover-up. That couldn't be a coincidence anymore.

Agdar and Idun Arens had been murdered.

She heard a splash, which shook her out of her thoughts. Looking down, she saw she'd stepped into a puddle. Loudly.

And when she lifted her eyes, she found herself making _very_ awkward eye contact with Sideburns.

Quite a stupid situation, really.

"I… think I'll leave you two to your business," she said when common sense took over again, and she plastered a wide smile on her face. "I should go home. Young woman out in a dark place at night, that's not so good. You know how it is, right?"

There was a look of recognition in Sideburns' eyes, as if he'd met her before, but he seemed mostly confused by her words and sudden appearance. Elsa used it to her advantage. She turned around and began to walk away at fast pace. She hoped the men would be too dumbfounded to react.

No such luck.

"Not so fast, Catalyst!"

She turned around for a last glance at the twins, only to see Eyepatch with his gun pointed at her.

It stung. When her eyes drifted to her right arm, she saw a tranquilizer dart sticking out, and she knew she was in trouble. From the looks of it, they'd injected a high dose of sedatives into her body. She pulled it out and held it tight, clenching her hand into a fist.

"You fool!" she heard Sideburns yell at his brother. "What use do we have for the Catalyst if we don't have a key?"

Elsa had been called many names, but Catalyst was a new one. Was she supposed to feel insulted? It hadn't quite sounded like a compliment.

Sideburns shook his brother's shoulder and pulled him along in her direction. Elsa's eyes widened and she decided to make a run for it.

She focused on the magic flowing through her veins. Her control wasn't impeccable, but she'd learned how to use it to save her life. She left a trail of ice in her wake, a thin layer barely visible in the large shadows and bright lights of the Port, and trusted it would slow down her assailants. When she heard one of the men yelp, she allowed herself a smug little smile.

In moments like these, she was grateful for her powers. She'd been shot with a tranquilizer gun before. She knew that, with this high of a dose, she should have been knocked out cold already. Her powers, however, kept her going. The magic inside of her fought the sedatives, her immune system and the hostile injection waging a war on each other. She didn't doubt she'd be sick tomorrow, and she knew her magic wouldn't be enough to neutralize the sedatives, but it would keep her conscious for as long as possible.

She hoped it would be long enough for her to get home.

She ran as fast as she could, past the same rows of containers and huge ships she'd seen before. She didn't even stop to apologize to any tourists she toppled in her haste. The thugs were nowhere to be seen, but still she kept running, as if they would appear in front of her out of the blue. Her lungs burned and her hands shook, her legs felt heavy and her mind grew cloudier with each step she took, but she had to get home. She couldn't fall unconscious now, not even if every muscle in her body protested and her eyes wanted nothing more than to be shut. She couldn't let Anna worry. She couldn't.

Her thoughts grew as disorganized as they'd been before. From the corner of her eye, she saw a black Volkswagen tailing her, sporting the same licence plate as her father's car. Not real, she told herself, she was hallucinating it. It felt real nonetheless.

And in her mind, one question resurfaced:

_Elsa, what's a catalyst?_

Merida had asked her what a catalyst was. She'd asked, and she'd lied about her reason for wanting to know. Merida had lied. Merida had asked about a catalyst. Sideburns had called Elsa a catalyst. Tomorrow, Elsa would have gone to the Port with the redhead to work on the assignment, the assignment tied to Sideburns and Eyepatch and Elsa, the Catalyst, and Merida knew, Merida was connected to it all somehow.

Sideburns had spoken of a 'she'. Merida played a role in all of this. And Merida had lied.

Elsa couldn't help but feel betrayed.

The question still darted through her mind when she made it back to her apartment building, using the last of her strength to keep herself standing as she struggled to breathe. That feeling of betrayal stung more than the tranquilizer dart had done, and it messed with her emotions more than she'd cared to admit. With shaking hands, she managed to knock on her front door, unable to find the concentration to search for her keys. The world was spinning even more than it had done before, when a headache was her biggest problem, and her vision was starting to blur, black spots shaped like deformed snowflakes dancing before her eyes.

When Anna opened the door, all smiles and happiness, Elsa could only force out one sentence:

"I think I got shot."

Anna's smile faded fast, but Elsa didn't have strength left to be able to process it. She felt herself colliding with the floor, and then, almost to her relief, there was nothing left to feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: I haven't seen Frozen II yet, and I don't think I'll be able to watch it for a while. However, I don't give much of a damn about spoilers, so if you want to yell at me about that movie for whatever reason... go right ahead.
> 
> I also don't think the events of Frozen II will have any major impact on this story. It's an AU. Canon has nothing to do with the little sandbox I've got here. My universe, my rules, I suppose. I've got no desire to alter an entire storyline, so minor references aside, there's no need for you to have seen Frozen II to read (and enjoy) this story.
> 
> Anyway, have a nice day and let me know if you have any thoughts!


	7. Chapter 7: Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when your sister collapses on your doorstep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't make you wait that long this time, did I? Either way, Enjoy chapter 7!

In hindsight, Anna would have liked to say she hadn't panicked. But what were you supposed to do when your sister collapsed on the doorstep other than panicking? Hindsight was the least of Anna's worries when she saw Elsa fall.

The first thing she did was drop down on her knees without caring about how much it would hurt. With wide eyes, she shook Elsa's shoulder. "Elsa! Wake up!" She had to use all her power to keep her voice from breaking. How could this have happened? What had Elsa done? Had someone really shot her?

_If you'd have let her do her work like she wanted, this would never have happened._

Anna bit her lip so hard she could feel tears forming in her eyes. She took a deep breath. "Elsa… this isn't funny…"

She'd never been the anxious type. While Elsa had always been a bit of a bundle of nerves, Anna had never been that way. She'd always been that bright-eyed little girl with a 'rainbows and sunshine' attitude. But this? This was more than she could stomach. It hurt to see her sister like this, and it hurt even more to know she was in part responsible for the situation. How much would it hurt when Elsa woke up and blamed her for whatever had happened?

_If_ Elsa woke up again at all.

"Can't think like that," she muttered to herself as she tried her best to calm down. If she wanted Elsa to be okay, she couldn't keep sitting next to her on the cold hard floor. She had to get up and do something. 

She decided checking for any wounds would be a great start. Her eyes roamed the floor and her sister's body; at least there didn't seem to be blood. There was no sharp metallic stench in the air, and Elsa's expression didn't seem pained either. Shocked, yes, but if Anna hadn't seen her fall unconscious on the floor, she could've thought her sister had merely chosen a strange place to sleep in.

But, sing-songed a crushing voice in her head, no blood wasn't the same as no danger. Anna had seen enough badly-written action movies to know you could never be careful enough when someone claimed to be shot. What if Elsa had been hit by a poisonous dart? Or by some high-tech weapon injecting drugs into you to stop your heart? A part of her told her that such a thing was ridiculous, but then again, her dead sister had turned out to be a spy slash sorceress who was very much alive. Anna wouldn't rule out _anything _weird, period.

Relief shot through her when she heard a door creak open next to her. With expectant eyes, she looked up to meet Weselton's frowning face. The tiny man scrunched up his nose and narrowed his beady weasel eyes.

"Mr. Weselton! Could you please help me?" She pleaded, wringing her hands together. "My sister… Elsa got hurt. She's-"

"Drunk?" There was disdain in Weselton's voice. "Drugged? I swear, today's youth has no self-respect anymore."

"That's not… that's not… _How dare you_," she spat at him, glaring. "Elsa would _never_. You're just a bitter old man!"

Weselton cleared his throat, sounding offended. "There is no way I'll do anything for that… for that…"

"For _what_?"

"_Monster_." A frantic look flashed through his eyes. "Nothing but trouble, that one. An evil bitch with black magic."

Anna grit her teeth, biting back the string of insults ready to ooze out of her mouth. Did he know about the magic? No, he couldn't know about the magic. Elsa was too cautious for him to have noticed. Weselton was talking bullshit, that had to be it; nothing but an old man's ramblings.

Nevertheless, if looks could kill, she'd murdered her neighbour twice."My sister isn't a monster, and we don't need your help anyway!"

Weselton scoffed, regarding Anna as if she was some gross, mouldy thing. "If you're going to call anyone, at least keep it quiet." With those words, he turned on his heels to go inside and slammed his front door closed so hard Anna would have expected the thing to cry out in pain.

How _could _he complain about the noise while Elsa was possibly dying? He was the monster, not Elsa. No matter how hard Anna tried, she couldn't see sense in the man's deep-rooted dislike for her sister. She stuck out her tongue at his closed door and turned her attention back to Elsa.

When her anger at Weselton subsided, her worry came back at full power. She willed herself to stay calm, mumbled some encouraging words to herself, and cracked her knuckles.

The first thing she had to do: getting Elsa inside. "Okay, sis," she said, as if it could lighten her mood. "Hope you haven't been feasting on those chocolate pancakes too much."

Despite her joking remark, carrying Elsa into the apartment wasn't much of a task. Anna had always been strong, had always been able to lift even heavier objects as if it required little effort, and though Elsa was unconscious and not very helpful, she wasn't exactly heavy. With a grunt, Anna placed her sister on the couch, in the comfy, bed-like spot she'd actually created for herself. She'd hoped the impromptu changing of locations would awaken her, but she had no such luck; Elsa didn't make a sound, didn't open her eyes, didn't give a single indication she was planning on waking up soon. Anna's only comfort was the slight rise and fall of her chest, indicating she was still alive and breathing.

Okay, next step. While her sister didn't seem to be in _immediate _danger, Anna still didn't know what she'd been shot with, or who had shot her. Weselton had spoken of calling. But who could she call? The police? An ambulance? She doubted Elsa would appreciate such a thing. Her sister's spy work was secret, and Anna was sure this incident was the result of one of those secretive jobs she had. But she couldn't leave Elsa like this, either.

She scratched the back of her neck and wondered if the Company had some kind of alarm number, though she knew that was unlikely. Why would an organisation that didn't even have a name have a phone number she could call?

Could she search through Elsa's phone to call someone? No, that wouldn't work either. Elsa owned an ancient flip phone that could've belonged to Fred fucking Flintstone. Figuring out how that device worked would be time consuming, and even if Anna made it to Elsa's list of contacts unscathed, she would still be left with the issue of deciding who to call. It wasn't like she knew much about Elsa's contacts, and she didn't want to accidentally call someone who'd turn out to be untrustworthy.

Why the hell did Elsa own such a shitty old phone anyway? Security? Durability? _Convenience_? As if a Smartphone couldn't be convenient. Elsa's device was stupid and useless and it offered zero cool features in a world full of them. Jeesh, it couldn't even be used to play Pokemon Go or to check Tumblr or to take notes-

Wait. Notes.

An idea struck Anna straight in the face. She recalled her last few days of summer break, how she'd been alone in the apartment and had killed time by working on Operation Elsa. She'd turned the whole place upside down to find information on her sister's life, without a lot of succes, but she'd still managed to dig up a few useful things. Like that soggy cardboard box, containing an interesting little notebook.

She rushed to the cupboard she'd found the box in, praying Elsa hadn't moved it to a different spot. To her relief, it hadn't been moved an inch. Anna dug around in the small pile of fake IDs until she'd retrieved the notebook in all its washed-out glory. Flipping through it, her eyes skimming the words, she devoured page after page at a high speed, searching for anything she could use. 

Elsa had made many notes; Anna spotted descriptions of places and people, adresses, pizza delivery orders (what kind of job had that _been_?), names, the occasional flowchart, and phone numbers, some with descriptions and others without. 'French ambassador', 'For lockpicking', 'Guy from Norsk Hydro accounting (Nags. Avoid.)', and many more interesting characters passed her by. But she couldn't call them, could she? She doubted that some French ambassador would be pleased if she called him out of bed now, and the poor man would be so confused too.

She was about to put the notebook away in defeat, when her eye fell upon the following words:

_i nødstilfelle: 00 47 46293153_

Anna's heart leapt. Her instincts had been right. Elsa had indeed included an emergency number. Whoever the hell she'd end up calling, it would at least be a good choice. If Elsa trusted this person enough to make them an emergency contact, Anna couldn't go wrong.

She grabbed her own phone and dialled the number as fast as she could, almost dropping the device in the process. Her heart beat fast as she waited for the person at the other end of the line to pick up. Adrenaline raced through her veins and a strange tingle plagued her stomach. She swallowed hard as the phone kept on beeping, the idea of no one picking up scaring her to death.

Her fear proved to be unnecessary: her call got answered. She wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not when she heard the familiar voice, though.

_"Who are you and how did you get this number?"_

She knew only one person who would speak to her in English with that specific accent instead of Norwegian. Anna had met the redhaired Scot exactly once, but the memory of her had seared itself into her brain. Merida Dunbroch was Elsa's emergency number? What? Anna hadn't expected that. 

A part of her thought it kind of made sense, but another part told her it didn't. At all. Elsa had implied she didn't give a damn about Merida, but her assigned position as emergency contact screamed otherwise. This meant Elsa actually _trusted _the murderer, a lot, even.

Anna didn't know what to do with that information just yet. She remembered her promise not to meddle in any romantic endeavours and stuck to the task at hand. "Merida! It's me, Anna, you know, Elsa's sister?"

There was a short silence at the other end of the line. For a brief second, Anna feared she'd made a terrible mistake after all. She held her breath until Merida's reply came.

_"I know Elsa didn't give you my number. How'd you get it and why are you calling me?"_

"Look, I'm really sorry if I'm disturbing you or whatever, but this number was listed as emergency number, and-"

_"Wait, emergency? What emergency?"_

Anna didn't miss how Merida's tone shifted from wary and annoyed to concerned. "Elsa got shot and I, uh, I don't know what to _do_."

If anyone had experience with shooting incidents, it was probably Merida Dunbroch. Though Anna found her to be rather intimidating, she didn't think she could come up with anyone she'd rather have had to help her in her peculiar situation.

She thought she could hear an exasperated and worried 'ugh, idiot', through the phone. She took it as a good sign.

"_I'll be there as fast as I can," _Merida told her, with such confidence Anna was tempted to believe her without question.

Yet, she still found it necessary to ask: "Where are you now?"

Another bout of silence, but significantly shorter than before._ "A friend's place in Lysaker. Ten-minute drive, but I'll do it in five."_

Anna opened her mouth and closed it again upon hearing those words. "Oh. Good luck?"

_"Luck's got nothing to do with it. See you in a sec."_

Anna wanted to remark how a second was even faster than five minutes for a drive requiring ten, but Merida had already hung up the phone. She wouldn't complain about that. It meant the redhead had taken her seriously, which she could appreciate.

And, she realized, if Merida came over and Elsa turned out to be mostly fine, Anna had an excuse to try and squeeze information out of her. What secrets could she uncover that way? Anna wasn't proud of the thought, but as scary and strange as this incident was, it did present her with an opportunity she hadn't dared to dream of.

And Merida… Anna wasn't sure what to make out of that rampant concern in her voice. Of course, if someone had told Anna herself that Elsa had been shot, she'd have been quite concerned too, but that was because Elsa was her sister. Merida was, if Elsa were to be believed, nothing but a friend, and even then, 'friend' seemed to be a big word. But when Anna had met the Scottish assassin, she hadn't struck her as someone who made being concerned about another's wellbeing a regular thing. She killed people for a living, for fuck's sake! What business did she have, being all worried like this?

Anna reminded herself she'd _promised_ not to meddle. However difficult that would be, she wouldn't be the one to break that agreement she had with Elsa. She could ponder the hidden feelings in her sister's weird 'relationship' all she wanted, but she had to keep it from showing.

She was just about to check up on Elsa, when there was knocking at the door.

Briefly, Anna feared the worst. Could Merida have arrived already? Not likely. What if Weselton had come back to complain about whatever he could find to complain about? If that was the case, he'd be in for an unpleasant earful. Already holding back her rage, Anna stomped towards the front door and threw it open.

"Woah there," said Merida Dunbroch as she took a few steps back. "I didn't come all the way out here to be knocked out by a door."

It could have been a joke if her facial expression hadn't been so… out of place. When they'd first met a few days ago, Merida had been different. Anna had seen a variety of bored glares, conspiratory looks and lazy smiles cross her features. Now, she seemed more stoic and serious, a mask that fit Elsa better than her. Unsmiling, frowning, she ran a hand through her hair, her eyes still burning as if blue fire wanted to burn Anna to the ground. At least her clothes weren't covered in blood this time.

Anna checked the time on her smartphone. "It took you three minutes and a half."

"And?"

"It was a ten-minute drive."

"It all depends on how many speed limits you're willing to break. Can we go inside yet?"

"Right." Anna nodded and let her in. "Like I said, Elsa claimed she got shot. She doesn't seem to be in a life-threatening situation, but…"

"You want to make sure."

"Yeah. That." 

"It's fine," Merida said as they walked into the living room, where Elsa still lay on the couch. "You did a good thing, calling me. Even if it wasn't necessary."

"Can you take a look at her, please?" Anna asked. "I'll get you something to drink if you want me to. I just… need to know if she'll be okay."

Merida waved her away with a nod. "A drink would be nice."

Anna rushed towards the kitchen with renewed energy and a smile. Even if Merida was intimidating, especially with such a hard expression on her face, the younger girl was happy to have company. She wasn't alone, and Merida could help her because Elsa trusted her, and then her sister would be okay.

She realized she'd forgotten to ask what it was that Merida wanted to drink, but she figured it wasn't of importance. She opened the fridge, made a mental note to tell Elsa it should probably be cleaned more often than once a year, and pulled out a carton of apple juice. She gave herself a figurative pat on the back for remembering what Merida had drunk during her Saturday morning visit and poured a glass. It smelled a little strange, she noticed, but she was sure it would be fine.

When she made it back to the living room, glass of apple juice in her hand, Merida had found herself a spot on the couch that wasn't occupied by Elsa. She seemed to have relaxed, Anna saw. Her expression had softened and the earlier hasty behaviour had evaporated into thin air. Her face fell, however, when she took a look at the glass in Anna's hand. "Is that from the carton I said would expire?"

So that was why it had smelled weird. Anna blinked. "A hundred kroner if you drink it anyway." 

Merida didn't react to that. She merely watched Anna place the glass on the coffee table with a suspicious look. 

Anna sat down in the semi-comfortable chair next to the couch. "Is Elsa okay?"

"She's fine," Merida said with a nod in Elsa's direction. "She was holding a tranquilizer dart. I've seen it before. Pretty high dose, but mostly harmless. She'll feel like shit tomorrow, I suppose, but there's no threat. Not in the sedatives, at least."

Anna couldn't help but sigh in relief. Now that she was sure Elsa would be fine, she felt much better already. "I'm glad to hear that. She really scared me when she said she got shot."

"You know your sister. She's got a penchant for melodrama."

The thought of Elsa being all extra made Anna smile, but it made her sad too. "Actually… I don't think I know my sister that well."

Merida crossed her arms and closed her eyes for a second, sinking back further into the couch cushions. Anna could see she held something in her hand, but not the tranquilizer dart; that had been placed on the coffee table.

"Ah, fuck. I keep forgetting you never had any contact, for…?"

"Twelve years," Anna informed her. "Quite some lost time."

Silence ensued. Anna found herself at a loss for words. What could you say to a killer who slept with your sister on occasion? She hadn't thought it possible, but finding words to say to Merida was almost as difficult as trying to coax Elsa into a conversation. The redhead sat there in what could have been a thoughtful silence, staring off into the distance at a bare apartment wall, and Anna had no idea what to say to her.

She tried anyway. "Do you have any idea who shot Elsa?" she asked. "Like… just… what do you think happened?"

Merida seemed to ponder this for a second, her eyes never leaving the wall. "Fuck if I know," came the reply, a little too distant for Anna's liking. "I wasn't there."

She wasn't sure what to make of it. Her guest didn't seem to be in the clearest state of mind, but why not? Had the concern taken its toll on her, or was it something else? Something that had happened? Something bothering her? Though Merida Dunbroch looked and acted as if nothing could ever get to her, as if she was some invincible exception to an inconvenient rule, Anna knew no one was immune to life's hardships.

Best not to mention it. She'd learned one thing when trying to get answers out of Elsa: go too far, and the target will shut down. "I'm surprised she even made it back here," she said, instead of prying into business not meant for her. "I mean… you _did _say it was a high dose, and with the time she was gone, I doubt she stayed close to home."

This seemed to grab Merida's attention. The hazy, distant look turned more alert, and she sat up just a little straighter. "Oh, yeah. That's because of…" she stopped, as if she'd realised she'd said too much.

Anna thought for a second. "The magic?" It was the most sensible reason she could come up with. "I know about that."

Too late, she realised she'd spilled a gigantic secret if Merida turned out to know nothing about Elsa's ice magic. She could already hear the scolding her sister would give her if that had been the case, and she imagined herself with all her bags, being pushed into the earliest train back to Bergen. But to her relief, Merida Dunbroch knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Yeah. The ice magic."

There was something nice to finally having someone to talk to about this, even if that someone really didn't have any business being in Anna's apartment anymore. It felt _good _to know Merida was in on the secrecy surrounding Elsa's magic. They had common ground now, as if they were both part of a big conspiracy. It gave Anna the confidence she needed, and she relaxed.

"Ice magic," she said, making a few elaborate gestures with her hands. It was a rather poor imitation of Elsa using her magic, lacking all of the elegance her sister used her strange powers with. She was almost disappointed when no snowflakes came out of her hands, and thought life could have given her a cool superpower too if it hadn't been so cruel. "Elsa doesn't seem to like it much," she continued with a smile, "but I think it's the most wonderful thing."

Merida glanced at Elsa, a slight smile beginning to form on her face. Anna thought she could hear the mouthing of an 'isn't that true?', but she didn't say anything about it.

"I'm sorry, by the way," she said instead, "for disturbing you. I hope I didn't get in the way of any quality time with your friend, for, well, basically nothing."

Merida shook her head, her hands fidgeting with… whatever it was she held. "Don't worry. It wasn't like that," she said. "My friend… I wasn't there for her, I mean, I kind of was, but… She's missing, actually. Gone for almost six weeks now."

Anna gasped. "Oh! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be. 'S not your fault."

"Do you… want to talk about it?"

Merida chuckled at that. "Not necessarily," she said, "but judging from that look in your eyes, you're dying to know more."

Was she that easy to read? Anna willed her apparent expression of childlike curiosity away as best as she could, trying in vain to replace it with a more serious, neutral look, which only caused the redhead to laugh harder.

"It's not a company assignment," she said when she was done laughing, "so I can tell you a thing or two." She held up the peculiar device she'd been fidgeting with. "Do you know what this is?"

Anna shook her head. She wasn't digitally illiterate, far from it, but she'd never seen a device like the one in Merida's hand before. Was it some kind of computer chip? It looked like a computer chip. But how could such a thing be relevant in a missing persons case?

"This," the redhead explained, "is a bug. I don't know any details yet, but from the looks of it, it's pretty advanced spy equipment. It can record conversations and film what happens in a room, and I suppose it sends its files to its owner at lightning speed. If it's a _really _good one, it even deletes the information it's gathered when that's stored on its owners computer."

"Is this going where I think it's going?"

"Probably. Earlier tonight, my friend's boyfriend called me. He'd gone to the house where my friend and her mother lived before they vanished, to retrieve a picture he thought he'd lost there… and he found this." Merida studied the bug with narrowed eyes, turning it around in her hand over and over again. Anna was almost tempted to tell her to be careful with such a delicate, important object, but decided against it when she remembered the woman's supposed talent for bloody murder.

"But why," the redhead continued, "would anyone want to spy on _Rapunzel_? Sure, she's Company, but it wasn't like she knew a lot of secrets. Out of everyone they could've taken, everyone with actual knowledge of important assignments, why would anyone take _her_?" She grimaced, and when her eyes found Anna's, there was almost something pleading in them. "It doesn't make any sense at all."

"Sorry, but… if this Rapunzel was, like, a spy or something, wouldn't there be a risk of abduction like it or anything at all times? I mean, if she doesn't know many secrets, that's cool, but if she knows the one secret her kidnappers need-"

"Sharp," Merida cut her off, "but you don't have all the info just yet. You see, the thing is, Rapunzel isn't a spy. She doesn't even do assignments."

Anna frowned. "Not a spy?"

"She'd be a shitty one, let's be real. She talks too much, and she's scatter-brained as fuck, and she walks into a _lot _of things, holy shit, that girl has no sense of direction-"

"Uh, Merida? Getting a little off topic here."

The redhead sighed. "Sorry. Anyway. What were we talking about again?"

"Rapunzel isn't a spy."

"Damn right she isn't."

"But if she's not a spy, what _is _she?" From what Anna had gathered about the woman so far, she couldn't imagine her as any kind of secret agent or shady Company employee. She wasn't a spy, but she couldn't be a killer either, and hacking or anything with computers didn't strike Anna as Rapunzel's area of expertise either. What other options were there, then? Was she the coffee lady or something?

"This is going to sound really weird," Merida said, "but Rapunzel has magic, like Elsa, except it's a whole different kind of magic. She can heal people with her hair."

Anna pulled a face. "You're joking."

"I'm not. She's got magic hair. Some people _are_ that way, alright? Accept it."

"Does everyone at your Company have weird magic or something? Do _you_ have secret powers too?"

Merida Dunbroch scoffed, studying her fingernails with a dark look. "Not quite. All I'm good for is shooting people and fucking shit up."

The reply was so curt Anna decided to let it rest and never talk about it again. "Anyway. We were discussing magic hair."

"Right," the murderer said, brightening again, "the healing hair. Rapunzel is employed as a healer. If that one over there…" she nodded towards Elsa. "…Had gotten herself shot by an _actual _bullet, I'd have had to drag Punzie here. She was born for fixing that shit, take my word for it. Being shot isn't fun at all, but it's no big deal with her around." She paused briefly, looking up as if trying to remember something. "And she does therapy."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Therapy?"

"Yeah. Our line of work… can take a toll on people, so there's Rapunzel. For some people, it's optional if they want to see her or not. For me… not so much."

"What? Why?"

"What is this, an interrogation?"

"I'm just interested!"

"Of course you are." Merida leaned forward. "You see, Anna, when you work as a spy, like your sister does, it's hard, but doable, especially if you're not fast to freak the fuck out. But when your daily life requires you to kill people… that's not something anyone can handle. People go crazy over that stuff. Mental. So, to make sure there's not a bunch of armed killers walking around all unhinged, it's required that they do at least one hour of mandatory therapy per week."

Anna nodded, soaking it all in. "And you're… okay? Like, not mental?" She hoped she wasn't coming across as offensive, but her curiosity got the better of her once again.

That lazy smile crept up on Merida's face once more. "Opinions differ, but I'm doing fine, thanks."

"Are you… allowed to tell me all of this?"

Merida shrugged. "If you're allowed to know about the Company's existence in general, this won't be a problem."

"So, let me get this straight… you can tell me about _things_, right?"

"That's a pretty vague statement, don't you think?"

Anna nodded. "Imagine if I wanted to ask you some things about _Elsa_…"

The silence that followed almost made her think she'd really gone too far this time, though she didn't understand why. It occurred to her, too late, that asking Elsa's colleague to spill her secrets behind her back could turn out to be a bad idea.

"I mean, I don't mean anything with it!" she said, putting her hands up in defense. "It's, uh, like I said, I don't know Elsa all that well, but _you_ do, and it sometimes it feels like she doesn't want me to get to know her and-"

"Anna," Merida cut her off, "I get it. I understand you feel that way. But let me tell you a story, okay? Listen to me, don't interrupt me or I'll lose my train of thought. Can you do that?"

Anna sat up straight with wide eyes at the serious tone of voice. She closed her mouth, pretended to zip it shut, and hoped Merida's little nod of approval was a good sign.

"When they first told me I had to go see Rapunzel every week," the redhead began, "I was pissed. I thought it was bullshit. I despised the idea of being treated like some crazy freak, and I didn't like Rapunzel's approach either. She had this habit of wanting _you _to talk to _her_, instead of starting a conversation herself. Like I said, bullshit, about 'opening up' and whatnot. So when I got there for the first time and she told me to talk, I didn't say anything. I didn't say a word for a full hour."

Anna nodded along to the words, wondering where Merida was going with them. She didn't dare interrupt; if there was anyone she didn't want on her bad side, it was the murderer. 

"Next week, same story. Just sitting there for an hour without saying a word." Merida smirked, somewhere between mysterious and amused, lost in a memory. "By the third week, Rapunzel got so fed up with it she let go of her policy and started talking to me instead, and I talked back, but only when I considered it convenient. You seem like a smart girl. You can figure out what I'm trying to say, can't you?"

Anna prided herself on being able to read people well. It was a skill she'd taught herself pretty early on in her life. When Elsa had disappeared, _died_, she'd seen her parents' grief, had felt their grief with them. Young as she was, she'd taken note of every instance she saw one of them was feeling down. If her father got home from a long day at work, tired and miserable because he only had one daughter left to greet him, Anna gave him an extra big hug. If her mother looked as if the pain was about to overwhelm her, she'd notice and tell her something sweet, or try to distract her so she wouldn't feel sad anymore. Years later, her friends at school would praise her for how well she could read their moods, and Anna would smile and say she'd always been that way.

She found Merida Dunbroch hard to read. The woman seemed to be switching faster than channels on TV. Her smiles were as mysterious as Elsa's were rare, her words were strange, and Anna was illiterate when it came to reading whatever look she saw in those bright blue eyes. Yet, when she gave it some thought, trying to relate the story to the conversation they'd had, she could only reach one conclusion as to what it had meant: Merida would only tell Anna what she wanted her to know.

And Anna had no idea how much that was.

"I understand, I guess." It disappointed her. She'd hoped Merida would be easy when it came to spilling information, but the opposite had turned out to be true. She was as difficult as Elsa, though she appeared to be less obvious about it. Anna mentally scolded herself for assuming Merida would tell her all she wanted to know, as if the redhead was _that _slow-witted. Which she wasn't, as Anna had seen; there was more going on the killer's head than met the eye.

"Good." Merida stood up. "'S getting late. If you don't mind, I wasn't planning on spending the night here."

Anna bit back the 'of course not, Elsa's asleep' that began to form in her mind. "Oh," she said, not quite sure if it she was glad to see the murderer leave or not. "Don't break as many speed limits this time."

"Won't." The redhead took the glass of expired apple juice Anna had poured her and downed it in one go. She pulled a face. "Gross. You owe me a hundred."

Did she just…?

Whatever. It wasn't Anna's problem. She found herself at a loss for words once again as Merida began to walk away, and she decided she never wanted to mess with the Scot, ever.

"Oh, and Anna?" Merida stopped dead in her tracks, right in the doorway leading to the hall.

"What?"

The redhead turned around, giving Anna the conspiratory look she was beginning to get used to. At least she was smiling, Anna noticed, and there was a mischievous spark of amusement in her eyes. "Elsa's laptop," she said, jabbing a thumb at the dinner table, "is still on. Battery's gonna drain fast. She might appreciate it if you shut it off for her."

Before Anna could process the words or form a coherent reply, Merida Dunbroch turned on her heels and left the apartment. The empty glass was the only evidence she'd been there in the first place. 

Anna sighed. Not like she hadn't expected it, but Merida was _weird_, like Elsa, and bitch-ass Weselton and the whole entirety of Oslo, apparently. She didn't understand how Merida functioned at all; okay, she could see how the woman hadn't wanted to spill Elsa's secrets out of fear for betraying her trust, but what had that look been, and how was the laptop relevant? It was nothing but a device. Would Elsa flip out if Anna didn't shut it off or something?

Or…

When she realised it, she almost wanted to slap herself for being so stupid. Merida had helped her after all. Anna rushed towards the computer, her heart racing. Elsa had left with the intention of returning to her work. She hadn't turned it off. The laptop had switched to sleep mode, but Anna found she could turn it back on with ease. Elsa hadn't even bothered to sign out. Had she been that out of it…?

Anna shook her head. It didn't matter. Elsa was busy getting some much-needed sleep, and her laptop was out in the open, ready for Anna to go ahead and explore it. Shakespeare got it all wrong; eyes weren't the windows to the soul, but laptops surely were. The only thing she still had to do, was figure out what she was looking for.

Elsa's desktop was filled to the brim with shortcut icons to a variety of programs, some of which Anna knew, some of which she didn't; WinRAR, Dishfire, Time Stomper… advanced spy software she wouldn't bother to understand. She realized that the laptop gave her access to, quite possibly, data from all over the world. If she spent enough time figuring out how it worked, she was sure she could find, for example, Moana, and pull up the story of her life. She didn't care about any of that, however. The only person she wanted access to was Elsa.

Desperate to find something she understood fully, she clicked the folder labeled 'Documents', and found it was divided into two subfolders: 'People (erased)' and 'Reports'. That, and a few miscellaneous documents.

She clicked 'People (erased)' first, and was met with a few dozen worth of subfolders once again. Names, she saw, names she didn't recognize, except for one: 'Merida Dunbroch' was safely stored in the computer. Anna figured the folders held information about the person they were named for, though she didn't understand why these people had been 'erased'. She felt tempted to click Merida's folder, but reminded herself she was looking for information on Elsa. She wouldn't find it in 'People (erased)', and decided to check the other folder.

'Reports' proved to be interesting, judging from the titles of the documents. 'Mexican restaurant whitewashing cover-up', '2011 Norway attacks', 'Soldiers of Odin (Helsinki)', 'Cult dissolution' (What the fuck, Elsa?), and many more files formed a long list. Anna clicked a random one and gave up after half a minute. The reports were filled with jargon and code and long sentences Anna had zero patience for, and they seemed to be rather factual and objective. If she had to puzzle her sister's identity out of numerous pages full of boredom, she'd rather wait until Elsa finally decided to talk.

It left only the miscellaneous files. To Anna's disappointment, those weren't interesting either; most of them seemed to be nothing but notes on whatever job Elsa had been working on. One of them was labelled 'Agdar and Idun Arens (murdered?)', but Anna wasn't sure if she could handle opening it, afraid of what she'd find. 

Not for the first time, she asked herself if she really wanted to know who her sister was. She glanced at Elsa, who seemed at peace as she lay asleep on the couch. Marshmallow had draped himself over her like a lazy pillow of fluff, rather content with the soft, cool spot he'd claimed for himself. He meowed, and Anna couldn't help but smile at the adorable scene.

In the end, she found only one file worth checking. It hadn't been opened for little over a year, and it didn't have a proper name. 'Delete later' was what it was called, and there was nothing more to it. It hadn't been deleted yet. Why not? Anna took a breath and opened it with shaky hands, unable to figure out _why_ this file made her so nervous. An instinct, she told herself, and she swallowed hard.

It was a note. Short, unfinished, but judging from the choice of words, it had definitely been written by Elsa. Anna braced herself and began reading:

_Dear mother, father,_

_If you're_ _reading this, you're reading the truth, and the truth is that I'm not dead. I am, actually, alive, and okay, I think. I didn't die all those years ago when I left. I'm sorry. You must've been miserable. You must've been sad. I can't say anything to justify what I've done. I can't. I'm really, really sorry for making you think I was gone forever, but I had to do it. There was no other choice. I almost killed her, and I could've done it again, and next time she wouldn't have been so lucky or you wouldn't have been so lucky, and it wasn't okay if I kept putting you in danger. I had to go. I'm sorry. I'm a monster. I'm so fucking sorry._

_It's okay if you hate me. I hate me too._

_Ghgdw5gw5fw5wehvs4idw5fsegcsw4tdrtfrwqfjireufs5tdtrgue6fttt6ufe4tig37gd7fd6frygd6gthbx47ta4uos^_@&#3%-yywuveifudeuosghaa&_#/×€&%_/uydtxwuofsujfujfw 7÷3¥£@3£"@£&@-,€€#_&#*kysuvs_

_Forget it. You wouldn't send it anyway._

Anna blinked a couple of times. Clicked the file away. Shut the laptop off, closed it. She stood up, feeling mostly confused, and sad, and almost angry. Not at herself, or life, or Elsa, though she had every right to be mad at her. No, her rage was born from her frustration, the frustration she felt because even if she found answers, they always came with more questions, questions and questions and more goddamn questions, never ending. She'd had the look into Elsa's mind she'd desired, a look that had hit her emotions as hard as a full-blown punch in the stomach, and it had only raised more fucking questions.

She glanced at her sister, who was unconscious without a care in the world, and recalled the frantic, unfinished letter. The melancholic undertone, the self-deprecating words, the endless apologies. Anna closed her eyes, and all she could think was that both her and Elsa deserved better than this.

_I almost killed her._

What had happened? Who was 'her'? Anna felt as if she knew the person Elsa was talking about, but she wasn't sure about anything anymore. She couldn't even ask her sister about it, because then she'd know Anna knew, and then there would be a lot of explaining to do. All she could do was wait for Elsa to bring it up, if she ever did, and hope for the best.

She decided she would put Operation Elsa on hold for a while. The past was in the past; focusing on the present was more important. It was of utmost importance she managed to rebuild her relationship with her sister. They'd been through so much pain already, and they deserved something better now, something better Anna could give them if she tried hard enough… right?

She dove into the closet in the living room, pulling out a fleece blanket she'd known was in there. Elsa didn't react when Anna shooed Marshmallow away with a few soft words, allowing her to drape the blanket over her sister. The big cat purred, sauntering over to reclaim his spot on Elsa's chest, burying his head in her hair.

_I'm a monster_. Yeah, right. A terrifying monster, cuddled up to a cat on the couch. Anna had often found herself thinking Elsa was always right, but in this, she was mistaken.

She considered moving her sister to her bed, but it would be a _crime _to separate her from her cat now. She yawned. It had been a hectic night, and she was beginning to get tired. "You're not a monster," she whispered to Elsa, even though she knew she couldn't hear it.

She went upstairs, the night's events and what she'd read still etched into her mind, and shook her head. She had to go to sleep. New day, new chances. With one last look at her sister, Anna made for her bedroom.

"You just aren't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens once more. I wonder what the hell Merida's up to. What do you think?
> 
> P.S. The number listed as Merida's doesn't exist. I hope.


	8. Chapter 8: Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merida decides to go visit Elsa. No reason, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I give you a few answers in... well, 9K words.

A common, mistaken assumption was that Merida Dunbroch had many enemies.

She understood what gave people the idea. The select few who knew her, _t__ruly _knew her to an extent, were aware of her profession, which happened to be 'cold-blooded murder'. Many a Company agent had a habit of whispering about her when they thought she couldn't hear it. They gave her prying, wary looks as she passed, and sometimes, one of them would pluck up the courage to speak to her.

They'd ask her how she did it, the killing. How did she manage to sleep at night? Wasn't she traumatised? Wasn't wetwork incredibly messy, bloody and gross? Didn't she live in a permanent state of constant paranoia? After all, killing people on the regular was guaranteed to earn one quite some foes… right?

Wrong. Dead wrong. Merida had heard all of those questions far too often, and she was past the point of caring about the answers. They expected her to be a bit more… _emotional_ about the whole thing. Perhaps they wanted her to say that the stunning guilt ate her alive, or that she hadn't had a night of proper sleep in ages because the voices of her victims kept whispering in her mind. Yeah, right. If that had been the case, Rapunzel would have declared her unfit to work years ago.

The honest truth was that she'd been apathetic to killing from the start. Or at least, she'd tried to be, and with success. Contract killing wasn't complicated as long as you didn't _make_ it complicated. It was quite simple, the way she saw it: there was a client, there was a victim, there was her, and as cherry on top, there was the assignment linking them all together. Who the client was, who the victim was, what the motive had been… none of that was Merida's concern. She wouldn't let it become her concern either. All she had to do was pull the trigger and make sure she didn't miss her shot.

Enemies? She didn't have any. Who could be her enemy, anyway? Her victims had a right to hate her guts, but Merida didn't botch her jobs, and said victims never lived long enough to carry out any actual threats on her address. All they could do was file complaints against her in the afterlife, and she really couldn't bring herself to give a fuck about that. And if anyone in the victim's inner circle of family, friends, colleagues or acquaintances had a mind for vengeance, she only ended up with more corpses. Unplanned ones. All in all, it didn't faze her much.

But, she thought to herself, if she had to name anyone her mortal enemy, it would probably be her own brain.

She knew it was strange, like most other aspects of her life. The problem was that her brain never seemed to do what she _wanted_ it do to.

With a deep sigh, Merida decided that faceplanting on her kitchen table seemed as good an idea as any. Thanks, brain.

Her previous night had been a chaotic mess, even more so than usual. To start it all off, she'd left the warmth of her home because Eugene Fitz-fucking-Herbert had been screaming in her ear over the phone. In an attempt to save her hearing, she'd told him to zip it and wait 'till she arrived at Rapunzel's place to listen to what he had to say. She'd gotten in her car, driven all the way to Lysaker- how did you pronounce that, anyway?Lie-sake-ar? Lee-sahk-air? Norwegian was _hellish_. Stupid language, stupid country, stupid-

Getting off track. Focus.

Pronunciation issues aside, she'd driven to Oslo's suburb Lysaker and discovered that Eugene had found a bug in his girlfriend's room, which was enough to get Merida's adrenaline racing. It had been the first time in days she'd managed to find a proper lead on Rapunzel's disappearance. While the redhead wasn't too keen on thinking and deducing à la Sherlock Holmes, the bugged room had at least proven one part of her theory right: Rapunzel Gothel and her mother hadn't disappeared of their own accord. There had been foul play.

She'd kissed her good night's sleep goodbye the moment she reached that conclusion.

After that, the second big shocker of the evening had shown its face in the form of yet another phone call. Anna Arens, of all people, had called to inform her that her sister Elsa had been shot, which had been heart attack-inducing news in itself.

Ugh. Elsa. Merida ran a hand through her hair and sighed again. She still couldn't be bothered to lift her face from the table. Why was it that she couldn't get what had happened out of her mind? Elsa had gotten herself shot and that was _her _business, not Merida's. And on top of that, the woman was doing fine, goddamn it. There was no reason, not a single one, that required her to give a damn about what Elsa Arens got up to in her free time. The shooting had happened and it had turned out fine, case closed. She kept telling herself that, and with every time she said it, she believed it a little less.

When she'd been in bed that night, when there was nothing left in the world except quiet and darkness, she'd found herself wide awake, only sinking away into a brief sleep once every half hour. That had been strange, because she was usually rather good at sleeping. But that night, she'd tossed and turned and then gave up altogether, what with her mind giving her no rest whatsoever.

Who was watching Rapunzel? Why? Who had shot Elsa? And why did she feel such a strong desire to slit the shooter's throat?

Oh, she knew the answer to that last question, but she chose not to think about that. It was a stupid answer, so ridiculous and unlike her usual habits, and worst of all, it was an answer she knew she shouldn't have had. But as much as she saw the sense in forgetting about that answer, she couldn't bring herself to walk away from it.

Her focus shifted once again. She finally looked up and found herself staring, no, _glaring_ at the piece of paper on the table in front of her. She scoffed at it when she saw her own messy handwriting and the ink stains defiling her note.

When she'd woken up that morning, she'd tried her best to stop thinking about everything that had kept her up all night. She'd told herself she wouldn't think about Rapunzel, bugged rooms… Elsa. She had to go about her day as she did normally.

She'd been off to a good start. She'd had breakfast, taken a shower, watched the news for about eight seconds before growing bored of it and turning the TV off again. Usual stuff. And then her brain had struck.

Merida admitted she had a bit of a problem when it came to planning, remembering, and carrying out tasks she intended to fullfill. She tended to know what needed to be done, but when it came to actually getting up and doing it, she had to put in a lot of effort to motivate herself to begin, and even if she did make a start, she ended up stopping halfway through quite often because she'd found something new or more interesting to busy herself with.

However, years of experience dealing with the strange inner workings of her mind hadn't left her with nothing. Whenever she caught herself losing focus, interest or motivation, she resorted to more primitive approaches, like going through what had to be done step by step, or sacrificing yet another ugly post-it note to serve as a not-so-friendly reminder of the task at hand.

That morning, despite her resolution to not think about anything or anyone, especially not a certain colleague with ice magic, she'd still found her thoughts scattered all over the place, going everywhere at once and nowhere at all. No matter how hard she tried, every activity she undertook seemed useless, worthless, not what she _had _to be doing. She couldn't even explain it. All she knew was that she was absolutely doomed.

It had taken her a good hour to sit herself down at her kitchen table with a blank piece of paper and a leaky fountain pen, and she'd forced herself to adopt the step-by-step approach. She'd make a to-do list, and, with such a clear overview, she'd be able to take her mind off of Rapunzel's bugged room and Elsa Arens. Half an hour later, she'd amassed a list with a few items on it:

_To do:_

_-laundry_   
_\- prepare for tonight's special assignment (optional)_   
_\- have cake (why not?)_   
_\- pay speeding tickets (optional)_   
_\- murder_

She admitted the list contained a few… problematic elements. She picked it up anyway, without caring about the ink staining her fingers, and let her eyes roam over the options she had. The ink's scent stung, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

All of her options were right there in front of her, documented, albeit in the messiest way possible. The one thing left to do was choose. She gazed at the paper until all the letters blended together in some sort of hazy, haphazard ink soup, and she blinked a couple of times.

Then, she got up, went outside and set out to visit Elsa. Which hadn't even been an option in the first place.

Thanks, brain.

She absent-mindedly wiped the ink staining her hands on her jacket, not giving much of a damn about what the people passing her by thought of that. Wherever she went, a trail of hushed whispers appeared in her wake, and the nervous glances people tended to give her weren't new either; she wasn't unfamiliar with potential negative attention. People were prey animals, in a way, able to smell the scent of blood that seemed to cling to her even if she tried so hard to wash it all off. It took a lot of effort to make them feel even the slightest bit comfortable around her these days.

Well, there were exceptions, of course. At night, the prejudice and caution the masses liked to hold on to when she was in close proximity faded like old scars tended to do. Still present, not forgotten, but simply hidden under layers of excitement or whatever it was. Alcohol helped. Alcohol doused whichever threat people thought she might have posed. At night, nobody cared about who she was, or where she came from, or what her past had looked like. No one knew what her favourite song was, or what kind of foods she despised with a flaming passion, and no one was aware that she knew a hundred ways to kill a man and that blood stained all her clothing like the ink had done.

No, at night, people didn't give a single flying fuck about Merida Dunbroch. There was a time in which night had been her favourite time of the day, because if other people could forget who she was, she could do the same. It was a coping mechanism of sorts, a way to deal with all the shit life had flung at her. It helped keep her sane, helped her remember that she'd _chosen_ the life she had now, in a way.

And it was easy, it _was_. All she had to do was find a bar, buy a drink or two, and there'd be some pretty girl she could seduce quick enough. She never quite understood why girls liked her, though she wouldn't complain about it. What was it that they saw in her when she managed to strike up a conversation with them? It could've been her accent. Was there something enchanting about spending a night with a mysterious, foreign stranger you'd never see it again? Or was it her directness, her easy smiles, the colourful use of language, the impulsivity, the devil-may-care attitude?

Merida didn't know, but whatever charm she possessed in the dark worked its magic without any trouble. She knew it was a bad habit, sleeping with strangers, even if no one cared if she did it, especially not at night. She knew, as Rapunzel had told her so often she'd lost count, that there were healthier coping mechanisms in the world. Hell, the whole ordeal wasn't even that enjoyable in the aftermath.

But, she supposed, there was something enticing about spending one night with someone, not knowing who they were, them not knowing who _she _was, until it all blended together in one big chaotic mess and she didn't know who she herself was anymore. And when the lights went out, no one cared anymore, about her name or her profession or her past, and in the dark they couldn't see her red-stained hands, couldn't realise even her hair was the colour of blood.

There was a certain thrill to never sleeping with the same person twice. Well.. she'd broken that rule, hadn't she? She'd made an exception, _one_ exception, and she was headed for said exception's apartment. She couldn't quite figure out if that made her happy or miserable.

The strange thing about Elsa Arens, the glaring difference between her and those other girls Merida had shared her bed with, was that she was very much aware of who Merida was. What she'd done. Elsa knew her better than anyone else. Elsa knew what her favourite food was, how her actions could be so impulsive it was stupid, how she tried so hard to stay focused and couldn't stand it when it proved to be to no avail. Elsa knew what she did for a living, who she'd been and who she'd become. Elsa knew all about the blood, about the bullets, about how Death itself seemed to have attached itself to whoever Merida Dunbroch was supposed to be.

And still they had an agreement. If those girls Merida could pick up with so much ease had known what she'd done, they would have been scared, would have called the police. If they had known who she was, they'd have thought she had a few screws loose in her head. If they'd have walked away from her, Merida couldn't deny she'd understand. And yet, Elsa Arens, champion of walking away, knew everything, understood everything, all the damaged imperfections, and she stayed. It made Merida feel as if she was worth something after all, as if she hadn't fucked up her life completely. A nice feeling to have.

Not that they were in a relationship or anything. Not now, not ever. She'd accepted years ago that she'd never get anything more than the bare minimum out of Elsa. Well, Elsa had never actually said so, but Merida liked to think she knew her, and she knew herself even better. She knew Merida Dunbroch with all her issues was anything but girlfriend material, and if Elsa was smart, which was the case, she knew it too.

There was something pathetic about liking a person you had zero chances with, but… whatever. They had a pretty solid agreement. Why ruin what worked if it was the only way for it to work? It was another bare minimum in a life full of them, and she could handle that. She'd have chosen a bare minimum over nothing at all times. There was no use in dwelling on or being worried about things you could never have. Instead, you had to focus on what you _could _have. Merida Dunbroch wasn't made for relationships, and that was okay. She'd been clinging to that believe for a long time, with success.

There was only one person who managed to shake that belief. Well, just a little. Or so she liked to think.

When she spotted Elsa's apartment building looming in the distance, it occcurred to her she hadn't found any words to say yet. She didn't normally go over to her colleague's place without a good reason. In fact, she only went to see Elsa when they had work-related events to discuss, when there was an emergency or when she felt like trying her luck and having some fun (very few rejections. Good sign.). That day, she had to admit she hadn't set out to see Elsa with any specific reason in mind. She tried to think about what it could be, but no answer left her satisfied. Did she go because she couldn't get Elsa out of her thoughts? Because she wanted to prepare for tonight's special assignment? Had it been some strange subconscious desire?

A little bit of everything, or every option was incorrect. Truth be told, it wasn't her mind pushing her in the direction of Elsa Arens' home. It was the idea that going there _felt _so right most of all. Merida had never been gifted when it came to words, but even if she had been some kind of intelligent linguistics professor, she would not have been able to phrase the feeling without struggling. No matter how hard she looked, she wouldn't be able to see any sense to her emotions, and that was why she wouldn't bother to look in the first place.

Entering Elsa's apartment building wasn't much of an issue. Elsa had given her the keys, like… half a year ago? Trying to recall when exactly it had been hurt Merida's brain, so it wasn't that important. All that mattered was that she had an easy way in, one that didn't require an awkward conversation over a low-quality intercom in which she had zero facial cues to pinpoint whatever the hell Elsa was thinking.

She did her best to ignore the pungent odor of cleaning detergent as she made her way to the third floor. The way was one she knew by heart: she knew every unevenness in the walls, every weak spot in the floor, and she'd heard the sound of her own steps echoing in the halls often. Despite all of that familiarity, there was something different. Something wrong. It wasn't the building itself, it couldn't be. But what was it that almost made her feel nervous like she'd never been before?

Lack of sleep. Had to be a lack of sleep. The fact that she could keep her eyes open, didn't mean she wasn't tired. The building with its clean scent, the city, the world seemed to overwhelm her all of a sudden, making her nauseous. It occurred to her that deciding to have cake would have been a more pleasurable activity than going out to see her icy colleague who would doubtlessly be in a foul mood after being fucking _shot_.

When she reached Elsa's apartment, she treated the front door to a dose of her usual knocking: hurried and almost agressive. Her eyes drifted to Weselton's door, as if the man would come bursting out of his apartment to tell her she should be more quiet and how _dare_ she show her face in his general vicinity. Hell, she couldn't describe how infuriating that little mosquito was. Old man-reek aside, Weselton was full of criticism, fear and resentment, while also believing himself to be a great guy who knew everything and could do no wrong. His entire existence was enough to make her blood boil.

"If you're done looking at Weselton's door as if you want it to _explode_, would you mind explaining why it is that you're covered in ink?"

Merida startled out of her thoughts upon hearing the exasperated tone. She tore her gaze away from Weselton's door and focused on Elsa, who stood in the doorway of her apartment, her arms crossed and her expression cold. In spite of the words and the sharpness they came paired with, she sounded tired, and she didn't look quite as intimidating as she could be under normal circumstances. She'd let her hair down for once, as if she couldn't be bothered to put effort into it, and the sweater she'd chosen to wear had definitely been picked based on 'highest level of comfort' instead of 'style'.

Essentially, Elsa Arens looked pretty much wrecked, as if she'd been run over by a truck a couple of times. Okay, she was still pretty (Merida didn't think Elsa could ever _not_ be pretty), but her overall look screamed 'I'm having a bad sick day and I'm not prepared to deal with your bullshit'.

Merida glanced at her jacket and the ink stains defiling it. "That's a good question," she told Elsa with what she hoped was a sharp look. "I was, uh… making a list. Checking it twice?" She couldn't help but smile at her own weak joke.

Elsa sighed and rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here? Because I'm sick, so if you're here for _that_, it's tough luck. You know the way out, I hope?"

The smile Merida had sported turned into a grimace. Seriously? Was she _that_ shallow? If she took some time to think about it, she thought to herself, there was a high chance Elsa would turn out to be right like she was so often. If she stopped lying to herself, she figured she would indeed find out she had only herself to blame. And yet, the insinuation stung, as if she'd never given a single fuck about Elsa and her wellbeing.

_Well, 's not like you've given her many reasons to think you care, right?_

Thanks, brain. Fuck, it was annoying when such thoughts made its way into her head. She wasn't in a _relationship_ with Elsa, fucking hell. She wasn't supposed to care about her at all. But aware of that as she was, even if she knew they would never be a thing, she couldn't bring herself to stop.

"That's… that's not what I'm here for."

Elsa raised an eyebrow, as if that answer surprised her. In fact, that surprise was probably genuine. That stung too, but Merida still couldn't deny she'd done it to herself. "Then… what _are_ you doing here?"

Merida shrugged, trying not to think about how she felt her face heat up. "I, uh… I guess I…" her eyes found the cool blue of Elsa's, and she took a deep breath. "I just… I wanted to know, uh, if you were, hm… doing okay."

Because that had been what prompted her to come, wasn't it? All she'd wanted to do was make sure Elsa was fine. Had it been that simple?

For what it was worth, Elsa herself at least appreciated the honesty. She didn't look Merida in the eye, but the redhead saw what appeared to be a slight smile, stuck somewhere between amused and almost sad. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Well… You got shot, that's one reason."

"Would you mind explaining how you know that?"

Merida figured Anna hadn't told her sister about her visit, which she was grateful for. Elsa didn't need to know how worried she'd been, and she wasn't looking forward to potentially being reprimanded for her speeding. She did not, however, like that suspicious undertone. 

"I have my sources." It was something Elsa herself claimed often too. 'Sources', vague but reliable. It occured to Merida that using the phrase may have been a bit of a dick move, but it seemed the best option she had.

Elsa, sharp as always, had little trouble figuring out who or what that source could be. Her fingernails dug into her palms. "I'm assuming you talked to Anna, then."

"What if I did?"

"You know what? I'm not even going to ask." God, she sounded so tired. Merida felt tempted to wrap her into a hug.

No. No hugs. Don't even think about it. "Okay, so… you're tired. Get some rest. Give me a call if you don't want to run the assignment tonight, 'cause I'll do it alone if you're not feeling up to it, and then I guess… I'll…" she gestured in the direction of the building's stairwell. "…Go."

The statement had been clear, but Merida didn't move. Couldn't move. Her body betrayed her, keeping her in place. Her eyes locked with Elsa's, and she couldn't get another word out. All she could still do was blink and wonder why the _hell _she hadn't gone for the cake.

Upon realising Merida wasn't going anywhere, Elsa broke their eye contact with something of a sigh. "If you've got time, could you come in for a second? There's something I need to talk about with you."

Sweet Jesus fucking Christ. Few words were capable of wrecking Merida's nerves, but 'we need to talk' always seemed to do the trick, no matter who said it. A bit silly, actually, because she often found the conversation to be no big deal in hindsight. Still, whenever someone told her they were in for what promised to be a serious conversation, she watched her world fall apart, swallowed by darkness.

"Oh, hm… sure, whatever." Happy to have regained control of her legs, she followed Elsa inside, silent. She looked around in the apartment she knew so well, saw the couch with a blanket and a kitten draped on it, the spotless windows, the wooden coffee table on which Elsa had placed her laptop, revealing what seemed to be an unfinished, apologetic email directed at Hiccup. Nothing out of place. No changes had been made after Merida had showed up last night, or a few days back, or a few _weeks_ back. But why did it feel so different?

It gnawed at her. She searched for a change in the atmosphere as if trying to find the source of a gas leak; if she couldn't figure it out in time, she would slowly die of asphyxiation. There was a tension, a tension that had been there ever since she'd arrived, but it felt stronger now that she was trapped between the walls of Elsa's apartment, so strong, even, that she could choke on it if she wasn't careful. It was when she found herself shivering and wringing her tingling hands together, that she realised how cold the apartment around her felt.

If Elsa had noticed the strong drop in temperature or the slight chattering of Merida's teeth, she didn't show it. "If you don't mind," she began with a look as cold as her living room, "I was getting myself a cup of tea."

It was normal to want to take care of someone who was having a sick day, wasn't it? Nothing strange about that at all, right?

"Sit down, rest. I'll get your tea." Merida crossed her arms and sent her friend the sternest look she had.

Elsa raised an eyebrow, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Why does everyone care about my wellbeing all of a sudden?"

"You _could_ let me take care of you instead of questioning my actions. Just a thought."

With a half-hearted shrug and a slight frown, Elsa turned to retake her spot on the couch. "Have it your way. There's jasmine tea in the second drawer on the right."

As if Merida didn't know that. Nevertheless, she appreciated the instruction as she set out for the kitchen to make the desired beverage. Upon entering, she took note of a piece of paper that had been pinned to the fridge with a magnet,:

_Hey Els,_

_You were still asleep when I had to get to school, so I asked Kristoff to come pick me up. He'll probably drive me back too, so don't worry about it! Take it easy and I'll see you later!_

_\- Anna, awesomest little sister ever :)_

_P.S. I'll be a bit late today, promised to go hang out at the mall with friends._   
_P.P.S No obligations or anything, but if you've got time, the fridge could use some cleaning._

That explained why Anna wasn't there yet. Merida hoped the girl was having a good time in high school. Her own high school experience in Scotland had been far from enjoyable. Well, until she started skipping class like crazy. But all of that belonged in a past she didn't want to think about.

She shook her thoughts away, took the kettle on the counter and filled a cup with hot water, craving the warmth it offered her. As she rummaged through the drawer Elsa had mentioned, she cursed under her breath, damning the cold. She wasn't _supposed _to be able to see her breath when she exhaled indoors, right?

She tried to remember if Elsa had ever lost control of her powers while sick or shot. There had been the time she'd gotten a bad cold, of course, but aside from a few cases of minor avalanche, it hadn't been that special. She hadn't suffered many consequences after previous times of being shot either. Granted, Merida had seen her colleague have some… hallucinatory issues after similar high doses of sedatives (it had taken some time to convince a drugged Elsa that time travel wasn't a thing yet), but at this point, Elsa had grown experienced enough with the whole thing to keep her magic in check. So why did Merida feel like she was freezing to a certain death in the slowest way possible?

As she dipped the tea bag into the steaming cup of water, a strange sensation shot through her. Out of all the confusing feelings she'd experienced that day, this was the only one she understood. Eyes on her back. She was being watched.

She spun around to see a cat staring at her.

Marshmallow sat up straight on the kitchen floor. Not a single twitch of his whiskers, no blinking, only the slight, slow flicking of his tail. All he did was stare Merida down with such an indifferent expression of pure cold that she began to wonder if the animal had fallen victim to demonic possession.

She associated angry animals with, well… rabies, or something. Hissing, growling, frothing at the mouth for good measure. Marshmallow, however, with that cold glare and his threatening behaviour… was angry. She couldn't find another explanation.

"What's your problem, cat?" she asked it, crouching down to see eye-to-eye. She'd never had any problem with Elsa's pet before, and the cat had never been this… hostile. In fact, it liked Merida well enough. For all its hugeness and its intimidating appearance, it was a strangely cuddly creature, and it wasn't opposed to curling up to her on occasion. She'd developed a fondness for the cat over time, but seeing it regard her like that was disheartening.

Marshmallow didn't reply. Of course he didn't. He was a goddamned cat.

"Want a treat or something? I can get you some." The beast liked treats, those weird crunchy ones with too strong of a smell. And it had an appetite, too: Merida was sure Marshmallow could work his way through three boxes of treats without it satisfying his hunger. When promised something to eat, the large cat would perk up and race for the kitchen with a surprising speed.

This time, there was no reaction at all.

"Fine," Merida growled, pushing herself up off the floor to focus on Elsa's tea again. "Be pissed all you want. 'S none of my business."

She could still feel Marshmallow's staring eyes piercing through her when she'd turned her back to the animal. What was his problem? She ignored the increasing numbness of her fingers, zipped her jacket up a little tighter, and almost flew out of the kitchen, the cat trailing after her at an agonizingly slow place.

Elsa, who'd made herself comfortable in a corner of her couch, turned to her. "Hm. Thanks."

Merida placed the steaming cup on the coffee table. Elsa watched her do it, but didn't reach out to touch her beverage, as if she'd been presented with expired apple juice instead of fresh tea. Ugh, that apple juice… Anna had better be planning to pay up.

"Don't mention it," Merida said. "What's up with Marshmallow?"

"As far as I know, nothing. Why?"

Was that some kind of sick joke? "The staring thing. It's starting to freak me out."

What was also starting to freak her out, aside from the cold and the cat, was Elsa's expression of bored indifference. "You may have vexed him," she said slowly, her fingers tapping a steady rhythm on the armrest of her couch.

Merida scoffed. "Yeah, right. How, exactly?"

The reply she received, or the manner in which is was given to her, was far from what she'd expected.

She'd always been fast. Her reaction time rarely failed her, which came in handy on the job. Elsa, however, was faster. Merida hadn't seen the attack coming. She shot backwards, burying herself in the couch cushions as well as she could; a jagged ice spike shooting out of the floor at lightning speed kept her pinned to her spot, its sharp edge inches away from piercing a hole in her throat.

"Interesting question," Elsa said. "But I think you might know the answer already."

Merida had no clue what she was talking about, but couldn't voice that, too occupied by her racing thoughts. She gulped, staring at the ice ready to impale her if she made but one wrong move. "What the _hell_ are you doing? I'm obviously being threatened, but you might want to tell me why?"

Elsa ignored the questions, choosing instead to pose one of her own. "Are you armed?"

"What? Of course not."

The sharp edge of the ice spike crept forward until Merida could almost feel its sting at her throat. The temperature seemed to drop another degree. She realised she'd given the wrong answer.

"That's a lie," Elsa hissed. "There's a hidden pocket on the inside of your jacket. You keep a pocket knife in there. Don't even _try_ to deny it. Remember, I can tell when you're lying."

Merida mumbled a curse under her breath, careful to keep her hands where Elsa could see them. How did she know about the hidden weapon, anyway? As far as Merida knew, she'd never informed her colleague of that little fact. The point of a 'hidden' weapon was not disclosing its existence. Then again, Elsa knew way too much anyway, with all her fancy computer programs, notebooks, informants all over the city and contacts in even the farthest corners of the world.

It occurred to her that Elsa probably knew about the hidden pocket in her jacket because she'd helped her out of said jacket quite often, which was only proof you never had to sleep with the same person more than once.

"There's a knife," she confirmed. She tried to find a trace of warmth in Elsa's eyes, but found none. "You're right about that. But I've got no desire to use it."

Elsa nodded. Her eyes travelled to her left hand, the one she was using to keep Merida in place by way of 'terrifying ice spike'. "Mer, look. I don't want to hurt you, not now, at least. All I want is that you explain something to me. Do you think you'll be able to listen to what I have to say?"

Merida couldn't nod, due to her head being impaled by ice if she tried. "Yeah," she managed with a small voice.

"The first thing you need to know," Elsa said, "is that I'm sick and tired, and to keep you from being, well, killed by ice, I need to keep my left hand still, like this. You see?"

"Clear."

"But seeing as I'm so weak, there's a chance my fingers might just… _twitch_. And if they do, it's your life they're taking. So the longer you keep me waiting for answers, the higher the chance of me not being able to keep my hand still. You understand me, don't you?

Christ, this was serious. Merida didn't believe Elsa to be capable of killing her, but on the other hand, if the matter was serious enough to get a death threat out of Elsa 'calm and quiet' Arens, she wouldn't try her luck.

"If every second counts, can you _please _just tell me what I did?" Merida snapped. She despised it when Elsa or Rapunzel or anyone else turned to psychological warfare like this, or when they weren't direct with her, choosing to prevaricate instead. Elsa had to get to the point already.

"Yesterday night," Elsa began, "I went to the Port, to the address you wrote down for me. I wanted to scout the area for a bit, to get a better idea of what we'd be up against. Turns out I wasn't alone. I got shot, as you know."

"Yeah, that's shitty, but I don't see how it's got anything to do with me. With this." Merida gestured at the ice spike.

"Because you didn't let me finish. The two guys who shot me were twin brothers, most likely, and I believe they'll be the ones carrying out the theft tonight, but that's not relevant now. They were talking about a 'she', their boss, if I heard right. And before they shot me, they called me a 'catalyst'." Elsa narrowed her eyes at Merida. "Isn't that strange? Only a few days after you ask me, out of the blue, what a catalyst is?"

Oh. Oh, fuck. Merida didn't like where this was going.

"As if that means anything?"

"Oh, it gets better," Elsa continued. "Because when I asked you why you wanted to know, you lied to me. Or didn't you? Tell me the truth." She nodded towards the ice she'd called forth. "Or, you know, my fingers-"

"I did," Merida told her as fast as she could, hoping she didn't sound too eager. "I lied to you about that, but… it's still not what you think it is."

Elsa tilted her head to the side, sporting a frown the redhead would have called cute if she wasn't in such a precarious position. "Your explanation of your actions starts now."

Merida took a deep breath. "Everything I told you about the assignment is true," she began, concentrating hard to remember the details. "Hiccup contacted me about it and told me to inform you because he didn't want to do it himself. Remember? Your phone call?"

She watched Elsa's eyes drift to the half-opened laptop, which showed a rather pathetic attempt at regaining Hiccup's favour. It took all of her willpower not to laugh.

"I remember. So far, so good."

"I told you everything you needed to know… and then I asked you what a catalyst was "

"You did. You said it was because you'd heard about it in a documentary, but that's not true."

Merida shook her head with caution. "You're right. It wasn't. I… it's actually really fucking stupid."

Elsa shrugged. "I'll only judge when you're done."

"Does the name 'Priest' sound familiar to you?"

It took Elsa less than three seconds to come with an elaborate reply: "Claude Frollo, former priest turned criminal. Worked in the prostitution business as some sort of big boss, registered sex offender. Long list of sins for a man calling himself holy." She blinked a couple of times. "Yeah, I know the guy. You killed him the day I brought Anna here, two weeks ago."

Merida didn't think she'd ever get used to how much Elsa _knew_. The amount of information she managed to hoard was both impressive and mildly disturbing. The redhead could never quite figure out how Elsa's brain didn't explode under the strain of all that knowledge.

"There weren't any witnesses to that murder," she mumbled. "You stalking me or something?"

Elsa scoffed. "As if I want to know what you do in your free time."

"Then how do you know I killed him?"

A shrug. "It's just, I don't know, your style? Perfect shot, bullet clean through his brain. And… there really aren't that many assassins running around in this city."

"Fair enough. Anyway, I didn't kill that guy for an assignment. It was a private matter. He'd sent some thugs to abduct me and-"

"Hold on," Elsa interrupted, "you almost got abducted and I'm only hearing it _now_?"

Merida frowned. "Well, yeah? I didn't think it was important."

"You. Didn't think. It was. _important_."

"Can I continue now? Before your fucking fingers twitch?"

"Sorry. Carry on."

"Right when I came back from Berlin, these guys tried to abduct me, alright? And it wasn't that big of a deal, I guess. They're dead now. I traced the attempt back to The Priest- Frollo, and I figured it may have had something to do with Rapunzel's disappearance. He couldn't tell me anything, though."

She relaxed a bit when she saw Elsa nodding along with a thoughtful expression. Maybe it was her imagination, but the living room seemed to grow a little warmer. She could almost forget her life depended on Elsa's ability to control her fingers.

"But get this. He was rambling before he died. I mean, they all do. He's not that special. But one of the things he told me was that hurting me hadn't been his intention because I was a key to a catalyst. Now, I didn't have clue what a catalyst was, so I told him keys are for doors. 'Cause they are. That's _literally_ their function. I mean, I don't even look like a key-"

"Mer." 

"'Scuse me. Anyway, that catalyst thing stuck with me, and... when you came over, I figured I might as well ask you."

If that simple question had set all of this in motion, Merida regretted not asking Google instead. Such a simple solution she'd overlooked. Thanks, brain.

"You could've just told me that," Elsa said, raising her eyebrow. "Why lie?"

Merida allowed herself a nervous chuckle. She could almost appreciate how her face burned up, what with the (thankfully decreasing) cold and all. "Okay, you see… this is where we get to the damned stupid part."

"I'm listening."

"Do you remember what they taught us? The Company? About listening to people whose life you're threatening?"

Elsa's eyes drifted to the ceiling, as if she'd attached a cheat sheet to it for answering the question. "They told us to always listen," she said after a pause, "but never forget that there's no value to the words. People will say anything to save their lives."

"I… guess… Ididn'twantyoutoknowItookhimseriously."

"I didn't understand what you said."

Merida crossed her arms and looked away. "I'm only saying this _once,_" she stated, almost angry, "but the thing is, you didn't need another goddamn reason to think I'm some sort of idiot. You didn't need to know I was thinking about the words of soms god-crazed lunatic."

There was a silence, stretching on and on until Merida couldn't handle it anymore and began to laugh, even though there was nothing particularly funny about the whole situation. "See? _See_? I told you it was a stupid fucking reason. I fucking told you so. Can we now, for fuck's sake, stop threatening my _life_?"

"Mer… I…"

"No, listen! What the hell are you thinking? That I've got anything to do with those fuckers who shot you? That I betrayed you or whatever? Because you need to think _again_. I didn't betray anyone. All I did was make a _mistake_.Why the hell would I betray someone I-" 

She fell silent, closed her eyes for a second. No. No, she wouldn't finish that sentence. Not now, not ever.

"Why would I betray you?" She finished, running a hand through her hair. She knew she was messed up, problematic, even. But betrayal wasn't in her nature, and the insinuation that it was… hurt. She waited for an answer, glaring at the ice spike still threatening her, and found herself thinking it would almost be a mercy if Elsa's control slipped now.

"I don't think you're an idiot."

It was so soft Merida almost couldn't hear it, but she perked up anyway.

Elsa gave her a slight smile, scratching the back of her neck. "I mean… actually, I do. You're one hell of an idiot, but… not in a bad way. Kind of in a good way. A 'you' way. It's… nice."

Goddamn it, even her heartbeat betrayed her now. "Oh. That's… thank you."

"I've decided you've told me the truth," Elsa said. With a single movement of her hand, her ice thawed, as if it had never been there. "And… I'm sorry. It was just… suspicious."

For the first time since she'd entered, Merida felt she could breathe again. The tension had evaporated with the ice and the temperatures in the apartment were rising, slow but steady. "It's okay. I guess I would've thought the same thing if I were you." 

Elsa shook her head. "It's not okay. I overreacted. But… if, if I'd been _right_, there was a chance you'd… someone… Anna…"

"I wouldn't harm a hair on your sister's head if someone paid me to do it."

"I _know_. But... my parents… they were murdered. And I can't lose what little family I've got left. Not to anyone."

Merida didn't know what it was like to grieve for a parent. She'd lost her parents, yes, but not to death. Still, it got even harder to resist the temptation to wrap Elsa into a tight hug and never let go.

"Do you… have any idea who's behind it?"

"No. I don't know much. All I've got is that a black Volkswagen with a fake license plate was tailing them."

With a frown, Merida stood up. "Do you think these catalyst people have something to do with it?"

"I won't rule out the possibility." Elsa sighed. "That being said, we need to talk about tonight."

"What about it?"

"Here's the thing: these guys who shot me and called me a catalyst seemed to need me for something, but they said I'd be useless without a key."

Merida hadn't realised she'd been pacing until the words made her come to an abrupt halt. "Key… to the catalyst…"

Elsa nodded. "Correct. Whoever these people are, they need both of us. Tonight, we're both supposed to show up to the Port where a theft will take place, and we're doing that on anonymous orders. The Port is _also _where those catalyst guys were hanging around. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

It was all starting to make Merida a bit dizzy. Keys, catalysts, Frollo, the assignment… she could almost feel her brain shut down. "You think it's a trap."

"It has to be one. All of this can't be a coincidence anymore. But what do we do with that information?"

Merida reclaimed her spot next to Elsa. "I say," she said with a grin, "that we go to the Port tonight. I mean, come _on_. I'm the best shot the Company has and you're a great spy with superpowers. We can take these guys out and see if they can tell us anything about this situation. The catalyst stuff, but maybe even your parents' murder."

Elsa clenched her hand into a fist. "No. Absolutely not."

"What's the problem with it?"

"The problem," Elsa said, "is that we have no idea what we're up against. For all we know, it could be an actual theft. Stopping said theft from taking place is easy enough, but if we also need to avoid being abducted by… whoever these people are, then we're taking a big risk. I'm not risking my life for this." She narrowed her eyes. "And neither will you."

"Oh?" Merida leaned closer to Elsa. "And you're going to stop me?

"I'm… I'm serious." A thin layer of frost formed on Elsa's hands. "I can't lose Anna, but I can't lose you either."

Though cold still coursed through Merida's body, she couldn't help but feel warm upon hearing those words. She placed her hands on Elsa's shoulders, locked eyes with her, and gave her the most reassuring smile she could muster. "Hey, it's fine. I promise I'm not going anywhere near the Port tonight. Trust me."

She didn't like the idea of staying put and doing nothing. Merida Dunbroch wasn't made for waiting and being patient. She craved action, something to busy herself with. But, she thought, she'd let that all go anytime if it meant she could see Elsa's smile.

"I trust you."

It was a relief to hear those words, truly. There was something enticing about being trusted by people who didn't trust easily. She wasn't sure when and how having Elsa's trust became such a matter of grave importance, but that wasn't worth thinking about, not now. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind Elsa's ear, a gentle move, and pressed their lips together.

Well, then. That was new.

She was convinced it would never not feel good to get lost in the sensation of kissing Elsa, but her own initiation of it startled her. She didn't remember ever kissing her friend without a reason. There had always been _something_ to it, whether it was pissing off priests in church or something as simple as a quick seduction to get her in bed. But this… this was different. Softer, more gentle, and for no reason at all. A classic, rather enjoyable 'act before thinking' moment she couldn't quite explain. But did that matter when it felt so good?

That it could ruin everything they had, was something she'd conveniently forgotten. All she could feel was the softness of Elsa's lips, the coolness of her hands, and whatever the hell kind of amazing thing she was doing with her tongue. Even if it was nothing but temporary bliss, Merida would take that over nothing at all anytime.

When they broke apart after what felt like ages, the realisation of what had happened began to dawn. She almost drowned in her own confusion and sat paralysed, clueless as to how you continued after this. Judging from the similarly dazed expression on Elsa's face, she had no idea either.

"So…" Merida averted her gaze, biting her lap. "Let's… forget that ever happened." There weren't supposed to be any feelings. Simple rule, easy to follow. If only she'd ever been succesful at following rules.

Elsa shook herself out of her own complete confusion. "Ah, no, yeah. Sure. Yeah. Forget _what_ ever happened, exactly?"

Right. Change of subject. Merida was a trained professional, not some smitten, foolish teenager. "A-anyway," she muttered, searching through the pocket of her jacket to dig up the strange device she'd taken from Rapunzel's room. "You might be interested in this. I found it in-"

She didn't finish her sentence, freezing in her actions just when she'd managed to pull the bug out of her pocket. She'd heard something, coming from behind the door separating the living room from the entrance hall. _Giggling._

"Wait a second." Elsa had heard it too. She stood up and made for the door, pulling it open with a surprising speed.

Anna Arens was still giggling when she and her shopping bags fell down, the door no longer supporting her weight, and got a mouth full of carpeted floor.

"If you want to go spy on people," Elsa told her, "you should try being less loud."

Anna pushed herself up off the floor like a devil from a box, sporting a huge grin. "Oh, come on! I wasn't _that _loud. Neither of you heard me enter!"

Merida had to admit she hadn't heard Anna come in; she hadn't picked up on any jingling keys or front doors being opened. Fucking hell. The risks that came with being caught up in a kiss were great, apparently. This… whatever it was she had with Elsa was starting to take a toll on her skills.

"How long were you there, anyway?" Elsa asked, walking back to the couch and taking her spot again.

"Hm, like, a minute? Two, three? I got here just in time for the romance. Bit chilly here, by the way." With those words and a sneaky smile, Anna picked up her bags and skipped to the kitchen, humming a song.

_Right_.

Merida sat up a little straighter, ignored her blushing at Anna's comment, and handed Elsa the bug. "So, as I was saying, found this in Rapunzel's room. It's some sort of bug. Do you recognize it?"

Elsa, eager to focus on anything other than Anna's insinuations and, apparently, Merida's lips, studied the bug, turning it around in her hands. "I'm not too familiar with it, but I'll look into it, if you want me to. I should finish my email to Hiccup first, though."

Merida nodded and stood up. "Go do that. I'll ask him if he can try to figure out who gave us the special assignment later. Or do you think we should do that ourself?

"No. I think it's best if we… lay low for now. No assignments or anything. In fact, let's put even my parents' death and Rapunzel's disappearance on the back burner for a bit. We'll come back to it when we've got a better idea of what's going on. Right now, we'd be risking too much."

"If you say so, I'll take it. I'll ask Hiccup if he can keep his eyes and ears open for us." Merida grinned. "Or you can demand it in your email, but I think that might defeat the purpose of your apology."

Elsa laughed, took up her cup of tea and her laptop, and turned to her task. "Thanks."

Only one thing left for Merida to do. She blinked the last of her confusion away and went to the kitchen, where Marshmallow lazed on the counter, watching Anna with a curious look as she inspected the fridge.

"Holy shit, she _did _clean it," the girl said with a big smile, turning to Merida. "Oh, by the way, why are you covered in ink?"

Merida grumbled. "Is that important?"

Anna gave that some thought before she eventually shrugged. "Nope."

"What _is_ important, is that you owe me money."

"Ah." Anna dove into one of her numerous bags, probably to find her wallet. "I was hoping you'd forget." When she found the hundred kroner she'd promised, she handed it to Merida.

"Thanks. See you around, I guess." Merida turned around to leave, her money clutched tight into her hand, but she stopped when she felt Anna grab the hood of her jacket.

"Oh, _no way_," the younger girl told her with amused, narrowed eyes when Merida faced her again. "I've decided you're staying for dinner. I make, like, the best meatballs? Sweden and Ikea can go pack their bags."

Merida blinked a couple of times, wormed herself out of Anna's grip and turned to the cat on the counter to escape her stern expression. She reached out to pet it, cautious, and found herself surprised when it allowed her to stroke its fur without as much as a glance. 

"Why?" She couldn't help but ask.

Anna smiled, rushing past her to go find a pan. "Do I really need a reason to invite you?"

It was a genuine question. Merida figured her message had come through loud and clear yesterday, and she knew the girl wouldn't go prying for information if Elsa was present. Anna had invited her… because she _could_. Because she wanted to. Because there was no reason not to do it.

Well… that was new too.

Merida nodded. "Oh. Okay."

Was it that simple? Anna made it look so easy. She didn't need a reason to invite Merida to dinner. If that was the case, then maybe, just maybe, Merida didn't need a reason to kiss Elsa either…

She shook the thought out of her mind. It was time to let go of all of her confusing feelings for that day. All she still had to do, was be happy she wasn't alone, even if it was just this once. She scooped Marshmallow off the counter without much difficulty, listened to his purring, and smiled.

"Come on. Let's get you some treats."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this my christmas gift to you! Happy holidays, guys!


	9. Bonus chapter 1: Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some girls having dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked about the dinner chapter, and while I didn't have that planned, I couldn't resist turning it into a bonus chapters. I mean, you know I love those. So here's some you might enjoy!

Anna had thought herself to be better in the kitchen than Elsa. The keyword there was 'thought'.

Truth be told, she was probably still better. While she wouldn't even try to top Elsa's pancakes, every other dish her sister had managed to cook up had been…

Well…

Edible.

She didn't have a better word for it.

Back when she was still in Bergen, Anna had often helped her mother, her father, or even Kai and Gerda with their cooking. Not that they _needed_ help, especially not Gerda, but it was a good way to procrastinate on homework and an excellent cure for boredom. It had allowed her to spend quality time with her family, while also teaching her a thing or two about achieving gastronomic success.

Burned meatballs, however, could nog be described as 'success'.

She hadn't _intended_ to lose track of the time. In fact, she'd sat down on the counter right next to the stove to keep an eye on her culinary miracles, even though Elsa told her to get down lest she set herself on fire. She had it all thought out: a nice meal would bring a bit of cheer to the apartment, and it would make a good day even better.

But then, while she was supposed to be cooking, Kai called for an update on how she was doing, and she _had_ to go check Instagram to see the pictures Moana had posted after their trip to the mall, and Kristoff texted to ask if she happened to have a pic of page 110 in their history workbook because he couldn't find his own book and Anna had to go upstairs to find _hers_ to take the picture he'd asked for.

Needless to say… her cooking had suffered the consequences.

"So…" Merida said as Anna placed her disappointing work on the table and lifted the lids off her pans. "Not to sound offensive, but… you might want to apologize to Sweden and Ikea."

"Next time," Anna grumbled, "I'm _treating_ us all to Ikea. We'll at least have decent food."

"I don't know about you," Elsa said, putting some potatoes on her plate, "but this _is _decent, and I'm not about to give the Swedish the satisfaction."

Anna huffed. "You're only saying that because you have no standards whatsoever." She snuck a quick, cautious glance at Merida. "Ah, I mean… food standards. Not… relationship standards, or whatever you want to call it. Uh… yeah, food standards."

Merida frowned at that. "Was better without the extended explanation."

"Yeah, I realised."

"Anyway," Elsa said, trying to cut into one of Anna's meatballs. "You did your best. It's fine. Just a bit…" she kept stabbing at the meat, without making a dent. "…Challenging."

Anna made a frustrated noise she herself would have described as 'inhuman' and shoved a bite of potato in her mouth. "It's disastrous," she retorted with her mouth full, spraying potato everywhere. "I've done so much better."

She patted next to her to find her knife, but found nothing. Seriously? Had she forgotten to give herself…? Ah, fuck. Disastrous, indeed. She cursed her own forgetfulness and stood up. "Forgot a knife."

Before she could take a single step, she heard clattering, steel against her white porcelain plate. A large pocket knife, shining and sharp.

"Don't bother," Merida Dunbroch said, prodding at her potatoes with her fork. "You can use that if you wash it later. Saves you a walk to the kitchen."

Anna blinked eight times before sitting down again. "Would it be rude to ask how many knives you have on your person?"

Merida shrugged. "Just that one." She looked up for a second, thinking. "Well, today."

The question 'how many people did you kill with this?' burned in Anna's mind, but she decided quick enough that she didn't want an answer to that. The knife was clean, at least.

"Mer," Elsa said, "Company never told us about the etiquette of weapons at the table, but I figured you'd have an idea of how it worked at this point."

To Anna's relief, it sounded amused rather than annoyed. As she tried to cut her way through a rock-hard meatball without success, she thought back to her surprise when Elsa didn't seem to have any problem with letting Merida stay a little longer. Anna remembered the previous weekend, when her sister had been icy and stiff towards the redhead. She'd assumed Elsa always behaved like that when Merida was around, but she'd been proven wrong.

"You figured?" Merida replied with something of a smirk, and that same sneaky, flirty look Anna had seen before. "Go figure again. Your Norwegian dinner politeness rules can go to hell."

"Huh. Scottish dinners must be dangerous, then, if you don't stick to the 'no weapons' rule."

"Oh, I'll show you dangerous-"

Anna cleared her throat with a grimace. "Guys, don't let me stop you or anything, but I think you've had, like, plenty of time for eye-fucking this afternoon. You know, when I _wasn't _here?"

Elsa choked on the piece of meat she'd managed to cut off with great difficulty, turning a bright red. Merida followed her example minus the choking, instead mumbling a confused "time for _what now_?" as if she'd misheard.

"What did you guys do, anyway?" Anna asked, continuing to eat as if she'd said nothing strange whatsoever. "I mean, it's probably either classified or something I don't want any details of, but still-"

"Work-related," Elsa forced out, picking up her glass of water to wash her food down.

"Good talk," Merida added, "Bit cold. No lives threatened or anything."

"_Merida_."

"What? It _was _cold."

"That's not what I meant."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "I need to think of something else to talk about, huh?"

For once, her sister and their guest seemed to be completely in sync. "Yes."

"Hm… what about…" she drummed on the table with her fingers for good measure. "Magic!"

The water in Elsa's glass turned to solid ice. Anna watched as her sister glared at it, and said: "Yeah, that magic! Nice going!"

Elsa thawed her water and drank it fast, as if to make sure it couldn't freeze again. "Is that really interesting enough to talk about?"

Seriously? _Magic_, not interesting? Anna supposed the lifelong ability to conjure up snow and ice out of thin air had numbed her sister to the absolute awesomeness of the phenomenon.

"Uh, yes? Your magic is, hm, I don't know, only the _coolest_ thing in the world?"

"Pun hopefully not intended," was all Elsa said, eating the last bit of food on her plate.

"She's right, though," Merida joined in, averting her gaze. Anna wondered why she didn't just look Elsa in the eyes. "You're.. it's… pretty. Great. Pretty great."

"Sounds a bit confused," Anna told her, mischief shining in her eyes, "but you got the spirit, at least."

Elsa laughed and stood up to bring her plate to the kitchen, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. "I'll take those compliments." She waved her hand as she went, causing calm, swirling snowflakes to appear. Anna watched them with wide eyes, reached out to touch them. If there was anything that could baffle her, it was snow in september.

She shoved her plate, still half-full, away from her. She wasn't hungry anymore. "You know what would be cool?" She began when Elsa returned. "If you made… a giant ice slide! Down the roof of this building! I mean, why live in an apartment building if you're not going to have a giant ice slide?"

"It might surprise you, but most people don't desire giant ice slides."

Anna stuck out her tongue. "Most people don't have sisters with winter magic."

"Actually, why not? That slide, I mean," Merida said. "It goes against pretty much every rule regarding responsible use of magic, but who cares?"

"I think such a slide would attract unwanted attention."

Merida crossed her arms. "Not if you make it in winter, it doesn't. This country has crazy winters, anyway."

"Keep dreaming." Elsa leaned closer to her and used her thumb to wipe something off the redhead's cheek. "You got something there."

Merida pulled a face. "Yeah, go right ahead. Make me look soft instead of cool."

"Hush. It's not like the whole world's watching."

"But _I_ am," Anna said with a grimace as she began collecting plates and pans to bring to the kitchen. "And I'd tell you to get a room, but I'm not sure about the soundproofing in this apartment, so I won't bring it up."

She watched with delight as Elsa's face turned bright red once again and congratulated herself on making such witty comments. She toned it down a bit while washing the dishes, though, and when she was done, she handed Merida her knife back.

"There you go. All clean. Almost like it's never been used."

"It _has_ never been used," Merida muttered, tucking the weapon away wherever she kept it. "Well, not until I gave it to you."

"Wait, you don't use this to kill people?"

"Not if it can be avoided, no."

"Then how…?"

Merida shrugged, made a gun sign with her fingers and poked Anna in the head. "Good shot."

Anna had vague memories of telling Kai over the phone that life in Oslo was kind of slow. That not many interesting things happened, that the people were nice and fun, but that her new life wasn't all that different from the one she'd had in Bergen. She'd decided not to mention the whole 'I'm about to have dinner with my magic spy sister and her murderous companion'. She couldn't help but think keeping that small detail to herself had been a _great _decision.

She'd had a fun evening, though, even if her cooking had been… lacking. She was almost sad to see it come to an end.

"Remember," Elsa told Merida when she was about to leave, "no assignments or investigations. 'Laying low' means not doing anything crazy."

"It's almost as if you think I have no impulse control."

"Would I be thinking wrong?"

"Hm… okay, not really… but still. Relax. For someone so cold, you have no _chill _whatsoever." 

The pun came with a shit-eating grin Anna couldn't help but laugh at. Elsa, on the other hand, seemed less amused.

"I mean it," she mumbled, looking away. "Just don't do anything stupid."

Anna watched as Merida's morphed into a smile, different from the other lazy, effortless smiles she'd seen on her before. This one was reassuring, and softer than expected.

"All I'm going to do is ask Hiccup to investigate the special assignment. That, and nothing else."

Elsa nodded in approval, and a silence Anna didn't dare break ensued. She waited, her eyes darting from her sister to the redhead and their unusual quietness. They looked as if not everything they wanted to say had been spoken, as if they were waiting for something more, whatever that could be. Not for the first time, Anna wondered what had happened while she'd been out.

The moment felt like centuries, but couldn't have lasted longer than ten seconds. Eventually, Merida closed her eyes for a split second, shook her head, and said: "Yeah, I should go."

With a last 'thanks for dinner', she made her way out of the apartment, disappearing as if she'd never been there in the first place. Anna watched her go with a thoughtful expression, as if trying to read the redhead's mind, but unlike her sister, she didn't possess any magical talents. Whatever was going on inside Merida Dunbroch's head, it would remain a secret to her.

"Hidden weapons." Anna turned to her sister. "Your girl's got class."

"She's not my-"

"I know. Which is why I'm not gonna say _anything_ about how she's totally in love with you, and I'm not going to say anything about your affection towards her either."

"You're wrong. And _meddling_."

Anna had some words to say about that first statement, but she swallowed them, remembering the deal she'd made with her sister to stay out of romantic affairs that weren't her own.

"Fair point," she said, "I'll stop. _If_…" she watched with glee as an expression of sheer confusion crossed her sister's face. "…You help me pick a movie to watch on Netflix. I bet we can find something nice."

She could almost feel the tension ebbing away. In fact, she _did_ feel it. She hadn't noticed the temperature dropping until it rose again.

Elsa smiled. "That's a great idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unnecessary update, I suppose, but I hope it was an entertaining one nonetheless!
> 
> Oh, and a happy new year in advance!


	10. Chapter 9: No wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna finds out that not every person in her life has been showing their true colours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much Merelsa in this one, but some wholesome snow sisters, I hope. Enjoy!

The moment Anna had first spoken to her sister again after years of silence, at the police station in Bergen, she'd looked her own definition of 'normal' in the eyes and said goodbye. She'd eaten low-quality cookies, all the while trying to figure out who Elsa was and what had happened to her, and she'd accepted that her life had taken a big, strange turn.

And indeed, Elsa's arrival _had_ marked the end of her quiet days, those days in which she didn't have to worry about much besides… well, homework, and maintaining friendships, and being alive, which was all easy enough.

When Elsa had been doing regular assignments, or even when she'd been adamant on uncovering the mystery surrounding their parents' accident (if there even _was_ a mystery, that is), Anna had been able to handle it. Sure, it was peculiar, and she would have appreciated it if Elsa had been involved in less dangerous affairs, but she couldn't change her sister's profession by merely wishing it, and she knew Elsa was experienced and cautious enough to deal with or stay away from the most hazardous of jobs.

Then Elsa had gotten herself shot, and Anna had seen her collapse right in front of her. And even though her sister had been fine, she'd felt a surge of panic rush through her like never before. How she'd managed to collect her wits and reach Merida was beyond her even now, and if Elsa hadn't realised by herself that she had to slow down a bit when it came to work, her younger sister would have been sure to give her a stern reminder.

But to Anna's relief, such a reminder had not been necessary. The week following the shooting incident, in her opinion, had almost resembled her earlier days, her normal days. She'd gone to school, laughed with friends and flirted with Hans; she'd waited for Elsa to come pick her up, which was far easier now that she was stuck at home and quite possibly bored out of her mind for the most part, and she'd spent what remained of her day with her sister. 

All in all, not much had happened in her brief, peaceful days of slow motion, though she found it easier to try and connect with Elsa: they'd tried to improve Elsa's cooking (an unsuccesful, fruitless attempt), and Anna had done her best to help her rearrange their living room a few times (it came back to her that her sister had wanted to be an architect when they were younger; she'd had a talent for it, which apparently resurfaced when she had nothing better to do). 

Okay, it wasn't like Elsa had thrown _all_ work out of the window. She'd poured quite a few hours into researching the bug Merida had given her, her eyes glued to her laptop, and she'd kept in touch with aforementioned redhead as if it was some sort of daily religious ritual. Though Elsa claimed it was all work-related, Anna had her doubts, but she knew better than to say anything of it. She was content with the way things were: she'd never had that much time in a row to spend time with her sister, and she used the new situation which allowed them to have more actual conversations well, even if said conversations were nothing more than discussions about the quality of the latest movie they'd watched on Netflix.

Even if they couldn't yet speak of the past, even if Anna still had many questions left unanswered, she found she could really say she was making some progress, at least. She had patience, and Elsa's self-imposed work-detox and the time that had given them had had positive effects. Her sister seemed to be more comfortable with her, more adjusted to the idea of having her around, and if Elsa was comfortable, there was a chance Anna could try her luck soon and ask the questions she still kept hidden within.

It wasn't time for that yet, though. The longer Elsa stayed silent, the more Anna got the idea she herself indeed didn't want to see what had happened to her sister after she'd run away. If someone was _that_ adamant on keeping her past hidden, couldn't that mean it was better off buried? Anna wanted answers, but sometimes, when she lay awake at night, she feared those answers too. She knew she didn't want to be fed lies and half-truths all her life, but as long as it tasted good… why not?

The dilemma of the unanswered questions, however, was best left alone now. She didn't want to think about it too much, lest it would ruin the amazing moment she found herself caught up in. She squeezed Hans' hand tighter as they walked through the park near her school. An incredible way to spend their break, in her opinion.

"I think," she began in a sing-song, "that this is the most romantic spot in the entirety of Oslo."

Hans chuckled. "Then you haven't seen much of the city yet, trust me."

"Would you show me?" She tried to recall Merida's perfected, mischievous flirty look, and couldn't help but think she was failing horribly at it.

For a split second, Hans frowned, and his silence stretched on a little too long. "I'll think on that," he said. The smile he sported didn't reach his eyes. Eyes that, for the first time, had something… off about them. Anna had never seen it before, but there was a darkness in them, a cold even Elsa couldn't match, and she saw an emptyness combined with something predatory. 

It sent shivers down her spine, but it was gone before she could fully register it. Back came friendly Hans with his soft features and sexy Danish accent and citrus scent.

"I'm… I'm sorry if that rubbed you the wrong way," Anna muttered, still unable to get that look out of her mind. She swallowed hard, as if trying to get rid of the bitter aftertaste he'd left her with. "I mean, I guess we hardly know eachother, right? We, uh… it's been… three weeks? And I know it might be a little _early _to go on the whole romantic lovey-dovey tour, but-"

"Anna." It was sudden, his voice so calm she shut her mouth without a question. She gave him an expectant look, waiting for him to speak. He didn't say anything anymore, but lifted her chin, cupping her cheek, and leaned in. Anna felt butterflies go ballistic in her stomach, her entire body a bundle of nerves. She closed her eyes and waited for his kiss, the one she'd been dreaming of for weeks.

"If only there was someone out there who loved you."

Her world shattered as if it had been made of glass.

She opened her eyes, saw his face hovering unbearably close to hers, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He took a step back, away from her, and shoved his hands in his pockets, his movements almost as lazy as the cruel smile he wore.

Anna frowned, ignoring the hollow, aching feeling in her heart. "I… I don't understand."

"Silly, _silly_ Anna. I didn't expect you to. Did you ever understand a single thing since the moment you were born?"

Truth be told, she didn't think she'd ever understand anything anymore after this. She blinked in confusion, unable to find words. "Hans, what are you doing…?"

"I can't _believe_ you actually thought I'd date you. Take you to the Halloween party and such." He smirked, patted the pocket of his jeans. "Damn, Gaston didn't believe I could seduce the new girl, but he owes me 300 kroner now."

"You… you used me?"

He laughed. "Oh, no. We simply had fun while it lasted." His features hardened. "But you? With _me_? What a joke that would be, Anna. Who could ever love you?"

Her mind scrambled to find something, _anything_, to say to him, but to no avail. She wanted to curse him to hell, punch him in the face, crush him with words like he was doing to her, but her breath hitched and she had to put all her focus into stopping herself from crumbling under his annihilating gaze.

"You don't have anything to offer me, don't you see? You've got a pretty face, but in the end, you're just a broken little girl with too many problems who doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut. Fragile, insecure, desperate to be loved."

Keep breathing, don't listen. She kept her gaze trained at the ground and grit her teeth, hoping to keep her tears inside.

"You can't even look at me." The snark left Hans' voice, leaving only pity. He truly did think her pathetic. "No wonder your sister abandoned you for years."

Out of everything he'd told her in his attempt to break her, that comment hurt the most. It stung so much she snapped her head up, pure fury in her eyes, and she balled her hands into fists, ready to deliver on her vow to punch him if push came to shove. 

"You don't know what you're talking about, you… you jerk!" Her voice sounded higher than she'd wanted, but the words came out strong either way. Hans pulled a face, but Anna didn't fail to see how he took yet another step back to save his skin.

They stood there in silence, one filled with a cruel indifference, one trembling with rage. The other people in the park passed by in a blur, some sneaking glances at the scene that had been caused, but they went on with their lives within seconds. Was lunch break over yet? Anna wanted it to be over. She wanted to fall in a pit with no way out and stay there forever.

"I'd argue," Hans finally replied, still surrounded by an eerie coolness, "but I doubt you're worth my time."

She'd had enough of it. She raised her fist, but stopped herself. _He_ wasn't worth _her _time either. To save herself from potentially being arrested for assault, she turned and ran, away from all the happy people in the park, back to class. She ran faster than she thought she could, pushed forward by adrenaline and pure, unbridled anger, and she told herself to focus on anything but her burning eyes. She couldn't cry now. She wouldn't. He didn't deserve the satisfaction.

Class hadn't started yet when she arrived back at school. She doubted Hans would show up for the rest of the day, choosing instead to go and collect his filthy money from his filthy friend, but Anna didn't mind. She didn't think she could see his face again today without being consumed by the desire to tear it off. With very little grace, red-faced and sweaty, she plopped down next to Moana.

She felt tapping on her shoulder and turned around to see Kristoff, his brown eyes full of concern. "Are you okay?"

All she could do was shake her head.

Moana, who had followed that little exchange, expressed worry as well. "Trouble with Hans?"

"He's an asshole," Anna hissed. It came out angrier than she'd intended, but she had to let it out somehow. "He was playing pretend this whole time."

Kristoff hit his desk with his fist, mirroring Anna's own anger. Their teacher shot him a warning look, but he didn't pay attention to him. "I knew that guy was an asshole."

Moana frowned. "Don't you think all guys are assholes?"

"Oh, people in general are huge assholes, but Hans is the biggest one. The absolute _king_ of assholes."

"On that we can all agree."

Though her pain didn't recede, Anna couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face. Even if she'd been rejected in the worst way possible, she still had friends she could count on to cheer her up. "Thanks, guys."

Their teacher shushed them, threatening to send one of them out if they didn't stop interrupting the lesson. Anna readied herself, almost grateful for the distraction her schoolwork could provide, but Moana grabbed her attention once more."

"Remember, your first day?" She whispered, careful not to be heard by the teacher. "When I told you I'd show you my boat sometime?"

Anna nodded.

"How about tonight? I've got work this afternoon, but when I'm done we could take my boat out and… I dunno, relax, explore? It might take your mind off things." Moana turned to Kristoff behind them, as subtly as she could. "If you're not too repulsed by the thought of socialising today, you're welcome to show up too."

Kristoff frowned at the comment and Anna couldn't help but giggle at the funny face he'd pulled. "Great idea," she told her friends, making sure to keep an eye on the teacher. "We're on. I just… I need to check up with Elsa, but I doubt she'll have any problems with it."

When the thought of her sister invaded her mind, rushing in at lightning speed, Anna no longer registered whatever other things her friends were saying. She knew she shouldn't have attached any value to Hans' stinging words, but what he'd said about Elsa still found a way to worm itself into her brain, burrowing deep inside with no intention of leaving. _No wonder your sister abandoned you for years._

It had been weeks, and still Anna didn't know what her sibling had gained by taking her in. She didn't feel like an improvement of her sister's life. A burden, that was more likely. Elsa had taken her in, and what had it left her with? A meddlesome teenager who couldn't keep her nose out of another's business. A silly little girl with no understanding of anything… not even love. Yeah. No wonder Elsa had abandoned that, indeed.

If their parents hadn't died, Elsa wouldn't have resurfaced in her life at all. She knew that much, at least. Was that why her sister's mind was so set on not talking about the past? Because she knew it would hurt Anna's feelings? The younger girl remembered the last days before Elsa left and disappeared. Her sister had been different in those days: she'd never been loud, but she'd been exceptionally quiet, keeping her distance, and every attempt Anna had made at communicating with her had been shot down with curt answers, laced with a cold she'd never known her sister possessed. 

What if Elsa had left because of _her_? Had she been so stupid, so childish, so much of a nuisance that Elsa had simply discarded her, easy as that? It made sense, in a messed up way. After their parents' accident, Elsa had felt obliged to take her in, obliged to pretend they would be okay, and now she was only waiting for Anna to turn eighteen and start her own life in which she wouldn't be Elsa's problem anymore. The hesitance to talk about the past… what if what Elsa was hiding was the fact that she'd left because she didn't want anything to do with her sister anymore? And now that she'd taken Anna in, an unexpected turn of events, she knew she couldn't tell her to her face how worthless and how pathetic of a younger sibling she was, which led to Elsa keeping her vow of silence as some sort of damage control.

Her eyes began to burn yet again, but she still managed to stop the tears from falling. No. No, that couldn't be it. Not Elsa. Not her sister who'd always looked out for her, who'd steal extra chocolate for them when their parents weren't watching. The sister Anna remembered had always known what to do in any situation, and she'd listened to whatever Anna told her, and she'd always been so _warm_. Anna knew that warmth was still there, albeit hidden behind all the walls and defenses and thin layers of ice Elsa had tried to bury it under. She'd seen it herself, when she'd been given a kitten, and when Elsa did her best to show up on time to pick her up from school and kept trying even if the circumstances didn't always allow it.

And yet… there was something so _conflicted_ about all of her sister's actions through the year. At this point, Anna wasn't even sure if Elsa herself knew what Elsa Arens was hoping to achieve. Ever since their parents' accident, life had been a hurricane for the both of them, and Anna could only hope she'd live long enough to eventually see the calm after the storm.

Perhaps a fun night with friends was indeed what she needed, she thought, pushing all her depressing thoughts to the background as she packed her books and stood up at the end of their school day. Like Moana had said, it would serve to take her mind off the complications in her life… she hoped. She said goodbye to her friends, promising to see them later that day, and set out to the parking lot to find Elsa.

Oh, god. She hadn't even thought about what Elsa would say when she heard of what Hans had done. Anna remembered their conversation when Elsa had been in Sweden. She'd been so convinced that what she had with Hans was real, so captivated by her beautiful illusion that she knew what love was, that she'd gotten snappy with her sister.

It pained her to admit it, but Elsa had been right about Hans all along. Two-minute loverboy. She'd known Hans was trouble, and Anna hadn't listened, idiot that she was. She could already feel the inevitable 'I told you so' stabbing her in the heart, and she wasn't sure she was equipped to handle that pain. Her somberness stayed with her all the way outside, and she kept her eyes trained at the ground until she reached the parking lot, fully aware of how miserable she must have looked.

The stupid thing about Elsa and parking was that she never parked in the same spot twice in a row, or even in the general vicinity of a spot she'd occupied before. Anna figured it was some sort of spy instinct of unpredictability, of keeping the element of surprise alive, that her sister subconsciously listened to. The potential life-endangering hazards to be found in high school parking lots were numerous, after all. Though the lot wasn't large, the unnecessarily complex method of parking still meant Anna had to do her best each time to figure out where Elsa had decided to place her car.

It was easy enough to find her sister this time. She was standing next to her car which stood in the middle of the parking lot. Her eyes were glued to that ancient flip phone she owned. The fast movements of her fingers indicated she was texting, something Anna considered to be easier on a modern phone, but if Elsa wanted to do her own thing and stick with the prehistoric one, she wouldn't judge. She figured there was a chance of ninety-nine percent it was Merida her sister was talking to. If the circumstances had been different, she would have made a light-hearted joke about it, but she didn't have energy left to try. Whenever people spoke of sadness, they always forgot to mention how exhausting it really was.

Elsa looked up from her phone upon hearing Anna's fast-approaching footsteps, a worried expression crossing her face as she put her phone away. "I was going to ask how your day was, but I'm assuming it wasn't so great."

Was it that obvious? Did she look _that _defeated? She lowered her eyes once more and sighed, looking for an explanation she could give.

_No wonder your sister abandoned you for years._

She felt her eyes begin to water. "It's… I…"

Elsa crossed her arms, now stuck somewhere between worried and utterly confused. "Hey… what happened?"

Anna didn't care anymore. She let her tears flow and looked Elsa in the eyes. "Hans… Hans said…" she choked on a sob.

"What? Anna, what did he say?"

She shivered as she felt Elsa's hand on her shoulder, so cold, but still a comfort. She appreciated the gesture, even if it meant nothing.

"He said… He said I didn't, didn't understand anything, and, and that I, that no one could ever… love me and… and… you… I…" _And it's no fucking wonder you left me all alone_.

Elsa didn't say anything. Anna could see the thoughts rushing through her mind and that dire look of concentration she wore as she put two and two together, but she couldn't tell what her sister thought of the answer. She readied herself once again for the merciless 'I told you so' she'd been expecting all along. She fidgeted, waited for the blow.

It didn't come.

Instead, Elsa pulled her into a hug. It was hesitant, tentative, as if she wasn't sure she had permission to touch her, but it was a hug nonetheless, warm despite the _f__reezing_ cold hands and all the initial caution. Anna hadn't felt that safe and protected ever since she'd hugged her parents goodbye for the last time. The past didn't matter in that moment, not at all; she was perfectly content staying like that, sobbing her eyes out with her face buried in Elsa's shoulder and her sister's arms wrapped around her. It was an assault on what little dignity she had left, but the simple fact that she was getting a hug from Elsa outweighed that. She hadn't even realised she'd been craving the contact so much.

"If you can't or don't want to tell me all of it, it's fine," Elsa began. She made a gesture as if she wanted to wipe a tear from Anna's cheek, but decided against it at the last second. Anna almost felt disappointed, but the hug in itself had been a very pleasant surprise and she'd take what she could get.

"But… whatever he said… he doesn't know _anything_ about you, you know? You're… amazing. And if he doesn't see that, it's his loss."

"You- you think?" Anna sniffled.

Elsa gave her a small smile, something dark embedded in her eyes. An edge of sorts, almost angry, but Anna didn't think the rage was directed at her. "If he said no one could ever love you, he's a fucking fool. There are so many people who love you, and you _know_ it, don't you?"

"I… I think so."

"No, not 'I think so'. It's the truth. Mom and Dad loved you, and Kai and Gerda would give up their whole lives if you asked them to, and you have friends, and…" Elsa fell silent for a bit, but picked up where she left off within seconds. "…And I love you, too. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't there."

Anna giggled through her tears. "Now you're exaggerating."

"Believe me or don't, but I wouldn't lie to you about this. You're one of the best people I know, and nothing that son of a bitch says is going to change that. Not for me, and not for you either. Got it?"

Of course there was a chance Elsa was lying to stay in her good graces, but it sounded so sincere and genuine Anna couldn't convince herself it was anything of that sort. It wasn't in her nature to assume the worst in people, and if Elsa told her she loved her, her words for once straight-forward without the usual amount of evasiveness, she was inclined to believe she wasn't being lied to. And even if it turned out to be a lie, she'd savour the moment in which she took it for the truth. Elsa was here, Elsa loved her, and her affection and words were worth far more than that lying jerk's cruelty.

"Do you want to go somewhere? Get something to eat or drink? Or is going home okay?" Elsa asked as they entered her car and drove away.

"Home is fine," Anna mumbled, though the idea of going out and getting donuts or some other comfort food was strangely appealing. "My friends invited me over for tonight, though," she followed up. "Is that okay? We're going to do… boat stuff."

Elsa frowned. "What's boat stuff?"

"Uh… exactly what it sounds like?"

Her sister considered that answer for a second, seemed to give up entirely on trying to understand, and formed a reply. "I don't see any harm in it. As long as you stay with your friends and don't go wandering off alone."

That was a reasonable request. Anna knew her sister had been worried for her safety after the shooting incident, among other things, and the younger girl could understand where she came from. In fact, Anna had been wary of her surroundings herself ever since the shooting happened, her imagination running wild and cooking up crazy chase scenes and freaky James Bond villains out to get her, shadowy people with shady pasts who would take her life without blinking. She hadn't given much thought to how dangerous her sister's profession could be, but the shooting had changed her perspective on that. She understood that Elsa wanted them to stay safe, and if there really was someone out to harm them, she wouldn't try her luck by sneaking away from her friends to go gallivanting somewhere.

"Don't worry. I'll be careful." She gave her sister the brightest smile she could manage.

"I'll bring you to your friends later, if you want me to."

"That would be great, yeah. Thanks!"

"It's not a problem, really."

Silence fell, and so did Anna's face when she realized something. "Wait… are you sure I can go? Wouldn't it be selfish of me? I mean, I know you've been really bored and such, so wouldn't it be more fun if I stayed home and we did something together?"

Elsa laughed and shook her head. "It's nice to know you care, but it's okay. Please, go have fun with your friends. Don't let me stop you."

Anna watched a mysterious smile creep into her sister's features. 

"Besides, I have plans anyway."

"Wait." Anna narrowed her puffy eyes. "No offense, but… plans? _You_? Since when?"

Elsa thought about it. "Since approximately ten minutes ago," she finally answered, that darkness Anna had seen in her eyes before coming over her again. "There's someone who needs to be taken care of. It's a bit unexpected, and also a bit… _classified_."

'Classified' meant 'I want no questions', and Anna would respect that. Curiosity aside, she wasn't all that eager when it came to possessing knowledge that could get her killed in a worst-case scenario. Was this what Elsa had been talking to Merida about? Were they starting a new assignment, or about to investigate a pending one? Or was it something else entirely? Whatever it could be, Anna came to the conclusion that the look on Elsa's face was an unpredictable one, a look that screamed she was ready to throw all caution to the wind if a situation called for it. It didn't suit her, and it didn't bode well either.

"Elsa," she told her sister, "I don't like that look."

"What look?"

"_That_ look. Like you've come up with some crazy idea that's awesome in theory but kind of a mess in practice? It's your personal 'insane genius' look."

"… I don't have a look like that."

"Yes, you do. Just… whatever you're up to, be careful, okay? Don't do anything you'll regret."

Elsa gave her a cryptic smirk, amusement shining in her eyes. "Oh, don't worry about that," she replied. "I've thought this through for a bit. I know what I'm doing." 

The mischievous energy surrounding her reminded Anna of the impish schemes her sister used to come up with. The best way to sneak chocolate into your bedroom, or the infamous 'top ten excuses to get out of trouble', which had given their poor parents hell quite often. But whatever Elsa was up to now, it wouldn't be childish mischief. No, it would be far, far more serious.

"And if anyone's going to regret _anything_ tonight, it's not going to be me."

Elsa's last comment was dramatic and vague, which was something Anna had gotten used to, so she didn't ask anymore. The words puzzled her, but her sister seemed so confident about this that she decided to let it slide. Elsa said she knew what she was doing, and who was Anna to doubt that? She was going to have a fun night with no worries whatsoever, and her super-spy sister could go ahead with her classified plans, as long as she was careful and came back alive.

For once, Anna truly didn't want to know what Elsa was thinking, which was freeing, in a way. She sat back in her seat, made herself comfortable as the day's pain faded, and all she did was hope the peace of the previous week would still be there when she'd wake up in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that:
> 
> A) Your 2020 got off to a good start!  
B) You're still enjoying the story!
> 
> Stay awesome, my dudes


	11. Chapter 10: Operation Westerguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa and Merida have a friendly chat with one Hans Westerguard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh jeesh, sorry for making y'all wait. One of my oneshots got out of hand and turned into a new fic, and then school punched me in the face a couple of times, and it was all a bit of a mess, really.
> 
> In other news, I have a thing for Merelsa fucking Hans up.
> 
> But without further ado, here's the newest chapter of Catalysis! Thanks for not giving up on me yet.

It felt… _strange _to be all alone with Merida all of a sudden. Elsa considered that a very bad sign.

Where the hell had it come from? She'd been alone with Merida countless times, before and after they made their agreement. What was different now? It wasn't like they hadn't had any contact with each other after the last time they'd seen face-to-face last week: Elsa had heard her colleague's sexy Scottish accent through the phone on an almost daily basis, and she'd checked her phone an awful lot of times and, to her surprise, found texts from Merida quite often.

Maybe it felt strange now because of…

Fuck.

Elsa had vivid memories of that kiss a week ago, which she also found peculiar. Not because kissing Merida Dunbroch felt foreign, no; she was sure she'd thoroughly explored the redhead's mouth at this point, and she'd enjoyed how amazing that felt a little too much. The weird thing was that Merida hadn't seemed to have had any _r__eason_ for kissing her, at least, not one Elsa could find, no matter how much she dug through her brain. And while she knew Merida had always been one to act on whatever impulses her racing mind presented her with, Elsa couldn't deny there was something that didn't add up: what kind of person kissed her friend with benefits a few minutes after said friend had threatened to kill her?

It couldn't mean anything. Not a chance. She refused to believe there was anything to it. The most plausible reason was that Merida had kissed her simply because she _could_, because it was easy and she knew she'd get away with it. Elsa was sure that, if she were to ask, the answer would be something along those lines. _Oh, it's nothing. Not like you're the only girl I kiss. Don't go feeling special now._

And because Elsa didn't want to hear those words, she didn't bother to ask in the first place. She knew Merida wasn't known to be good at relationships and commitment, and she knew she herself wasn't gifted when it came to romance either, and Merida knew it too, and 'it could never work out' was not what Elsa desired to hear. 

No, their situation remaining the way it was was for the best. It wasn't ideal, and it hurt sometimes, even though she liked to tell herself it didn't, but she'd rather die than watch it crumble and fall to pieces before her eyes. If she couldn't have Merida Dunbroch in any other way, she'd swallow her pride and accept it and live with the humiliation of liking someone who could have everyone she wanted and would, if she had any common sense whatsoever, never even _consider_ anything serious with Elsa Arens.

If Merida could stick to the rules of friends with benefits, now that would've made their predicament more bearable. If she could stop being nice, could stop making Elsa feel like she actually _cared_, it would have been easier. If Merida acted like a real bitch, Elsa wouldn't have had to deal with any feelings, wouldn't have been clinging to the idea that there could be more someday even though she knew better. The problem was that Dunbroch was not, in fact, a real bitch, and she was nice and fun and pretty and surprisingly sweet in spite of how much of an annoying idiot she could be, and all of that gave her that stupid ability to make Elsa's heart leap.

A game. She could be playing a game. Elsa had known the redhead and her ways for a good four years, and she knew everything, saw everything: the mischievous killer smiles, the bloodstained jeans, echoing gunshots and smooth seductions of whoever interested her friend enough to even bother. Merida had always lived a fast life, destructive and self-destructive, and with her nightly endeavours in mind, Elsa was quick to deduce how her colleague could view romance: a game to be played. The more feelings you mess with, the more people you sleep with, the more points you're be awarded, and Merida aimed for a highscore. And when she got bored of the game, she moved on to something else, simple as that.

"Is it going alright?"

That kiss had no meaning. Nothing strange had happened between them, and there was no reason to feel awkward about it now, period.

"It's fine. I can make this work." There was a playfulness to the words. Merida never took her eyes off the screen of Elsa's laptop sitting on her lap, avoiding eye contact to the Elsa's relief. "But I can already tell I'm going to be scarred for life."

Elsa sighed, leaned back in the seat of her car and turned the heat up, just in case her magic decided to act on instinct and lower the temperatures. She didn't need Merida to freeze. "You didn't _have _to come, remember?"

The sound of Merida's slow but steady typing filled the car, the only thing stopping silence from taking over. Focused as she was on her typing, it took the redhead a good ten seconds to come up with a reply: "I came because I wanted to."

"So you've got only yourself to blame for being 'scarred'. I never asked if you wanted to join me in this."

Merida hummed. "I'm hungry. Did you bring any snacks?"

_Right_. Elsa bit her annoyance back. "Off-topic, Mer. Of course I didn't. This isn't a field trip."

A slow nod, continuous typing. For the first time in what had felt like ages, Merida tore her gaze from the screen to look her in the eyes. "Look," she said, "when I called you 'cause you stopped replying to my messages all of a sudden, you said you were going to make some jerk who hurt your sister regret he was ever born. How the hell was I supposed to let you go do that all by yourself?"

"Easy. You say 'okay', hang up the phone, grab a bag of popcorn and go relax on your fancy chaise longue sofa."

"Chess _what now_?"

"The long part of your couch you can sit back on to stretch your legs."

"Ah." Merida turned her attention back to the laptop on her lap. "That wasn't an option. You see, with that new 'laying low' policy you're making me stick to, I'm dying for some action. This is ideal."

Of course that would be the reason. Living the fast life, and when boredom kicked in with full force, the redhead grew antsy and restless.

"And besides, it's safer to go together. I can't let you get hurt again."

_Goddamn it, Merida. _Why was it that every time Elsa wanted to convince herself she was better off without the redhead, she said something sweet and left her with an avalanche of feelings crashing down on her?

"I can defend myself."

"I know you can. I'm just not taking any risks. That's what you wanted me to do, right?"

That hadn't entirely been what Elsa had meant, but she accepted the answer anyway, knowing arguing with a stubborn Scot wouldn't get her anywhere. The truth was that, all things considered, she didn't mind Merida's presence. It was nice to have company sometimes, and to have the redhead sitting next to her in her car felt _right_ for reasons Elsa couldn't quite explain.

Shaking those thoughts away, she made to turn the heat up again, taking precautions once again, only to have her unexpected companion slap her hand away.

"Don't," Merida said with a finality. "You want to boil us alive or something? I like the chill better."

"Fine." Elsa crossed her arms, made herself comfortable and closed her eyes for a second. What the hell were they even doing, carrying put a crazy plan like the one they'd made? When she opened her eyes again, she looked outside, searching her surroundings for the person they were expecting.

Even at the ungodly hour of one in the morning, it was still busy out in the streets. It didn't surprise her; Grünerløkka District was known for its vibrant nightlife. Elsa was familiar with the area, having been there quite often when her job required it. She'd lost count of the amount of targets that had frequented clubs and bars, restaurants and coffeeshops in this exact neighborhood. Merida knew the place too, she supposed, though on a less professional level. It was no secret that her colleague liked the thrills of a night out.

And still, Elsa thought, in spite of the constant buzz of locals and tourists milling around, in spite of cars speeding by and the squealing of a passing tram, in spite of the bright neon lights burning in her eyes, it seemed… _quiet_ outside. As if everyone living the fast life outside moved in slow motion, half-asleep while wide awake. From her car, parked in a dark corner of a sleeping supermarket parking lot, hidden behind an autumn tree with leaves as red as Merida's hair, Elsa could observe everything and everyone outside with no difficulty.

Still no sight of Hans.

She leaned on her steering wheel, studied the elaborate street art on the walls of a clothing store across the street. An explosion of colours, green and orange and blue, shining bright in the glaring, white light of the store's lamps above it. She watched until the sight bored her and turned back to her companion in the passenger's seat. "Did you lure him out here yet?"

Merida's frown seemed to light up blue in the soft glow of Elsa's laptop. "Shouldn't be long now." She squinted at the screen, narrowed eyes staring in confusion. "Is that _Norwegian_?"

Elsa leaned closer to her, to see what was happening on-screen. The Instagram chat Merida had open on her tab revealed a correspondence with one 'Hans_Westerguard', in broken English awful enough to make even Anna cringe. Merida, despite being a native speaker, had an apparent gift for fucking her English up to make it look like she wasn't one, which came in handy now. Hans' English fared slightly better, though Elsa could see he wasn't putting any effort in his grammar or spelling whatsoever.

Gazing at the words Merida pointed her to, she shook her head. "Looks like Danish. Anna did say he's from Denmark."

"Do you know what it means?"

"Not sure. Google it?"

Merida opened another tab, pulled the phrase through a translator and stared in horror. "Is this guy _for real_?"

"Jesus, that's dirty." Elsa shook her head in disappointment. "It's not even a good pick-up line."

"I know, right?"

The Instagram chat appeared again as Merida closed the tab. She made to start typing again, but her hands stilled on the keys. "I don't even know what to say to that."

Elsa shrugged. "Don't look at me. Seductions are _your_ forte, not mine." She mentally cursed herself when the words came out colder than intended. Almost accusatory. _Fucking hell, don't be so obvious._

If Merida even noticed the sharpness of her tone, she didn't show it. "Well, if we got him this far, it should be safe to send him a location?" She gave Elsa a questioning look, as if she needed permission first.

"Go ahead. I'm getting sick of sitting here and waiting."

The sound of Merida's typing filled the car again. Averting her gaze, Elsa hoped their plan would end up having a succesful outcome. Merida had suggested it, after all, and the redhead's plans weren't known to be foolproof. In fact, Elsa wasn't even sure if her colleague _ever_ made a real plan. Whenever they'd worked together before, she always seemed to act on whims and impulses rather than using her brain for a second.

But this plan, Elsa had to admit, at least sounded like something that could work. When she'd been doing research on Hans, she'd found an interesting post on his mother's Facebook account: a huge family picture, taken during brunch at a hotel. Hans, as it turned out, had twelve older brothers, which would make it difficult to go to his home and confront him there. There were, after all, many potential witnesses, and the more Westerguards saw what their son and brother was in for, the more hostile they, as a family, could become. Elsa wasn't sure about Merida, but she knew that she herself did not want to add fifteen new names to her list of people to avoid unless she wanted to die a painful death at their hands.

So when she'd told Merida about this after bringing Anna to her friend Moana's place, they agreed on one thing: they had to lure Hans out, preferably to a secluded place, where no one would see them or feel the need to poke around and ask difficult questions. But how were they supposed to get the boy to such a place?

It was then that Merida had pitched her idea, which, though it was ridiculous, had sounded like a pretty safe bet. Elsa had pulled out her laptop and a few semi-legal programs, and she'd subjected herself to the hassle of creating a human being out of thin air.

Fake identities were something she'd learnt to work well with over the years. It wasn't hard, not anymore. A name and a birthdate were easily thought of, and so was a backstory. Once she had an idea of who she would become, she pulled up actual data and assembled a fake Norwegian D-number to make it look convincing. Then, to add another pinch of reality, she surfed the darkweb for a bit to dig up images of whoever fit the description of her new identity, making sure they couldn't be traced back to the source by using malware trickery. And when all of that was covered, she faked birth records, diplomas, internet accounts: Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn. If necessary, she went as far as creating fake news articles, making them look like credible sources of information.

Throw all those ingredients together, she knew, stir well with the right programs, and that was that. A few hours was all it took to create a fake person, existing only online and nowhere else. Not that it was spotless work: those who looked closely would be able to spot the fakeness. Elsa herself could spot fake people online from a mile away too. Their accounts often contained a bare minimum of content, and even if they did show more evidence of their existence, it lacked the spontaneous randomness of a human life. With fake people online, you could find important documents, the kind of documents Elsa too had faked, soon enough: the diplomas, the driver's licence, the birth certificate.

But what those doing research wouldn't be able to find, were the little things. The tiny, insignificant details of life. A fake identity always remained, well... _fake_. When Elsa did research on real people, she dug up the strangest things, piecing details together to form a decent picture of who the person she was looking into was in her head. She'd find out everything, from where they went to the cinema and what movies they watched to how they liked their coffee in the morning, and before the day was over, she could have their entire week's routine memorized better than the person in question did themselves. When an identity was faked, it was near impossible to find such information detailing the small nothings and simple things in that person's life, simply because that information had never existed in the first place.

To the untrained eye, however, her fake online personality would be convincing. Besides, she figured a guy like Hans had better things to do than fact-check what the girls he talked to were telling him, fishy or not. Within two hours, Elsa had set up the new identity she and Merida needed if their plan was to succeed: they became a girl around Hans' age, a promiscuous, Romanian immigrant looking for a good time in the Grünerløkka District. She knew Anna's treacherous loverboy was prone to hanging out there, getting drunk off his ass as he partied in a club all friday night; the guy detailed those trips way too well on his Instagram account, like a true fool.

When she'd gotten through all of that, coasting on a vengeance-for-my-sister kind of adrenaline kick, she'd driven to Merida's place to pick up her colleague, who had aggressively insisted on coming along when they were on the phone earlier, and she'd handed Merida her laptop for phase two of Operation Westerguard as they drove to Grünerløkka: the online seduction of Hans via Instagram, in order to lure him to a dark, quiet place.

Perfect job for Merida. If she was half as good as she claimed to be at getting girls in bed, she could get Hans there too. Not that he would _actually _get lucky, no. All the redhead had to do was make him _think_ that would be the case. So far, she'd taken her time. Elsa supposed that was acceptable: Merida, who wasn't as acquintanced as she was with faking her way through situations and pretending to be someone else, had to be extra careful to stay in her role, and the broken English she had to use to keep up the cover of poor immigrant from Eastern Europe slowed her ability to communicate with Hans.

"He says he's coming in five minutes," Merida told her. "He also says he hopes he'll be coming a few more times after that, but if you don't mind, I'm gonna go ahead and pretend I never read that with my own two eyes. This guy's so filthy I'm surprised your sister fell for him."

"I don't think Anna saw that side of him," Elsa replied, thinking back to what her sister had told her about Hans Westerguard before he revealed his true colours. He had bought her fancy chocolates, had held her hand whenever she craved affection, had listened to every random story or silly rambling she'd presented him with. Hans had aimed to look like a hero, a saviour, a perfect Prince Charming ready to take his princess to heaven. And he'd let her fall.

Elsa had thought her own plan to be too harsh at first, given that the target was a mere teenager. But when she remembered the look on her sister's face as she walked across her school's parking lot, how the girl had been shaking and crying and sniffling in her embrace, she knew that whatever she could do to Hans would be too mild. If there was one person Elsa wanted to see struggling and burning in Hell, it was Hans goddamned Westerguard.

"He made her think he cared about her," she continued upon registering Merida's inquisitive look. "Fed her pretty lies, led her to believe there was a future for them." _Kind of like what you're doing, Dunbroch. In a way. _"Then he smashed that particular dream to pieces in a fantastic display of pure teenage evil."

Merida laughed, and Elsa almost felt her anger at Hans evaporate on the spot. "Pure teenage evil? You should write poetry." She closed Elsa's laptop after shutting it off, handed it to her. "Might want to explain what you mean by that, though."

"Anna wasn't that vocal about it," Elsa told her, recalling how the girl had gone straight for emotional support chocolate upon arriving home. That she'd taken that out of _Elsa's _secret stash instead of her own, was a detail the spy had let slide for once. She'd let Anna have her go at the chocolatey delight and made a mental note to relocate the sweets to a place her sister truly wouldn't be able to find. "But she was more upset than I've ever seen her before. She said that he claimed no one could ever love her, and later she mumbled a few things about a seduction bet for 300 kroner."

Elsa was happy Merida had already given her her laptop back, or she would have had to buy a new device due to a hole punched through the screen of the old one. It would have been a pain. 

"Asshole," the redhead mumbled with darkness in her eyes. "He can-"

"-eat shit and die?" Elsa finished for her, raising an eyebrow. "For once, I agree."

Merida nodded. "Figured you would. We're not waiting for the guy here for nothing, are we? We're here to hit him where it hurts." 

Whether that last statement was to be taken literally, Elsa didn't know. Before she got a chance to ask, Merida continued: "by the way, what did your sister say when she heard about this?"

"'This?'" Elsa didn't bother to hide her confused look. "What do you mean, 'this'?"

"Goddamn it, you really couldn't have brought any snacks, huh? Not even crisps?"

"Mer."

"_Sorry_." Merida gestured at the car they sat in with a wild gesture, almost hitting her hand on the dashboard. "I mean, well… this thing we're doing here. With Hans. I'm just wondering what her reaction to that was."

What would Anna have said, if she'd known every detail of their plan? Elsa tried to picture her sister's voice and the words she would speak, tried to imagine the look in her eyes. She couldn't imagine it would be a pleasant look; in Anna's world, it was _wrong _to make Hans pay, so wrong, even though the guy deserved it for being dirtier than an unwashed sock. Anna, good-natured as she was, would have wished for a milder treatment of the boy she'd wanted to hold close once, even if it wasn't what he deserved, because she believed in second chances. Her reaction…

_Disappointed_. 

Elsa figured that word just about covered it.

Too late to dwell on that now. Her choices had been set in rock-hard stone from the start.

"She didn't say anything."

"Why not?"

"I'd say that's because I didn't tell her anything to begin with. The less she knows, the better."

Anna wanted to know. Anna wanted to know _everything_, every single detail about every single thing happening around her. Elsa could see that (she wasn't blind, for god's sake), could feel Anna's curiosity buzzing inside of her. And yet, the girl couldn't know everything she wanted to know. Too dangerous, too risky… too painful. So Elsa swallowed all the words she deemed a risk and silenced herself out of sheer caution.

"Tell me your excuse."

"My _what_?"

Merida blinked a couple of times, as if Elsa had slapped her in the face instead of asking a simple question. "Your excuse. What you said you'd be doing tonight that _isn't_ giving her fuckboy an earful? Night's boring so far, Arens, and I want to keep my eyes open a little longer. Humour me."

Elsa sighed, long-suffering. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't bring any snacks, and I'm sorry I'm boring company, but-"

"Woah, woah," Merida interrupted with a slight smirk, holding up her hand to motion Elsa to stop. "That's not what I said. Trust me, _you_ can _never_ be boring. I'm just getting frustrated staying here in this fucking box, is all."

Every. Single. Time. Elsa swore she imagined the redhead's unintentional, mild flirtations at least half of the time, because there was no way Dunbroch _wasn't_ simply telling her what she wanted to hear. She glared at her steering wheel, hoping the lights of the city outside weren't bright enough to seep into her car and shed literal light on the blush coating her cheeks. Biting her lip, she settled on an answer to her friend's earlier question, ignoring the sweet compliment to the best of her ability.

"I told Anna I had plans and that was the end of it. It wasn't like she'd be missing me tonight, anyway. She's staying with friends to do boat stuff."

Merida frowned, putting her feet up on the dashboard. "What's that even supposed to _mean_?"

An excellent question. Elsa had had the same one bouncing through her brain when Anna first mentioned the unusual activity. She had no idea what to picture, and no idea how to explain it either, so she shrugged. "I don't know what people tend to do on boats." Catching extensive amounts of fish by yourself and eating it all? Staring off into the night, doing absolutely nothing? Snorting sea salt? "You came to this country on a ship, Mer. _You_ tell _me _what boat stuff is."

It was a risky comment, Elsa realized when her eyes locked with Merida's and found a total emptyness staring back at her for a split second. Gaze into the abyss and the abyss gazes back. _Fucking Nietzsche_. She knew Merida wasn't vocal about her past; the woman didn't need to be. Elsa had known pretty much all there was to know about Merida Dunbroch before they'd even exchanged words for the first time. A life story, to a large extent, complete with every beautiful and painful and dirty and ugly moment. But even Elsa didn't know everything. She wasn't ambitious or stupid enough to claim she ever truly knew a person from the inside out.

What she did know, was that Merida had run away from home years ago, not unlike Elsa herself. Elsa knew most of what had happened in Merida's life before she'd done that, and she knew what had happened after they'd met, but the period inbetween those two, the period in which the redhead had somehow ended up wandering cold Scandinavian streets with no purpose or place to call home, still remained a mystery to her for the most part.

Merida had mentioned a ship once. It had come up long ago, when they'd been waiting for one of Merida's targets to come show his face and Elsa had been trying to make conversation to keep them both occupied. She'd asked her colleague how she'd even ended up in Oslo, of all places, back in the day, and she'd watched Merida stop chewing on her sandwich within _seconds_, tensing up stiffly, as if Elsa had frozen her in place. And after the silence stretched on for way too long, she'd swallowed her bite and said 'ship', and she'd looked away and complained about how bad it always smelled in the subway halls they found themselves walking in. Elsa hadn't asked again.

"It was mostly scraping my knees scrubbing decks and cleaning equipment to pay for passage," Merida replied with a flat voice, to Elsa's surprise. "Didn't have much money left, so it was work or no dinner. Can't imagine your sister's getting into anything like that with those friends of hers."

No, Anna would be sightseeing rather than cleaning, enjoying the salty scent of the sea with a cold drink on a clear night in early fall. A more pleasant experience than the one Merida had spoken of. Elsa's heart hurt when she registered the complete indifference in her friend's voice as she spoke of her past, a weak attempt at pretending it didn't bother her in the slightest, and it made her regret ever asking.

"If me bringing this up was insensitive, I'm-"

"Sorry?" Merida laughed. "Jesus, when are you _not_? You're always apologizing, I don't see how you do it…" she fell silent and shot forward. "Wait, look!"

Elsa looked, not thinking much of it. What with Merida's reaction, hungry as she was, the thing she'd spotted might as well have been a Mexican food stand selling chicken tacos. But when Elsa laid eyes upon the figure walking past the clothing store she'd been watching earlier, moving along through the noise of Grünerløkka by night, she gripped her steering wheel tighter.

"He's here," Merida announced, squinting at the distant form of Hans Westerguard. "I thought the sideburns in his Instagram profile pic were photoshopped, but apparently… not."

"I'm pretty sure Anna had a thing for those," Elsa told her as they stepped out of the isolation of her car and into the vibrant night. "But that's not important. You agreed to meet him where, exactly?"

Merida nodded towards a dark spot on the other side of the road, tucked away between a toy store and a Thai restaurant. "Dirty alley over there seemed like a good place. Quiet and dark and shady. The kind of place a dude like him would go into with no hesitation simply 'cause he thinks he's in for the blowjob of his life."

"I still can't believe he's falling so hard for this."

"Oh, come on. He's a horny teenager, not Albert fucking Einstein." Merida smirked, slinging an arm around Elsa's shoulders to draw her closer and whisper in her ear: "And besides, you know I can be very… _convincing_."

Elsa gulped and didn't say anything, not bothering to hide her blush. Ice cracked beneath her feet, and she prayed no late-night partygoer would slip and break their neck tonight. For a second, she contemplated leaving Hans be. He could wait for them in that dirty alley for hours and rot, for all she cared. It would be so much more fun to call the whole ordeal off and play along with Merida's game instead, to push her up against a wall and kiss her absolutely senseless. And it would be so much _easier_, too.

When Merida let go of her to make for the alley, a slight, mischievous smile still tugging at her lips, Elsa came back to her senses. She couldn't let herself be distracted by Scottish redheads, even though this one was particularly hot and magnetic. Justice for Anna was what mattered most now, she berated herself as they followed Hans from a distance, and no matter what Merida said, no matter how flirty her looks or how intoxicating her scent, Elsa wouldn't let any of it interfere with her main goal.

It was quiet in the alley, if Hans' stumbling footsteps went ignored. The reek of sweat and cocktails and wine clung to him and his wrinkled, stained clothes, and his hair, neatly combed in the pictures Anna had squealed over, looked as if he had tried to style it using only a leaf rake. He stopped in the middle of the narrow alley, swaying on his feet, tipsy. He held out his hand and leaned against a graffiti-covered wall for support, unbuttoning the upper half of his shirt for fresh air.

"Evening," Merida greeted him in broken Norwegian before Elsa could even get a word out. "What do you think you're doing here at this fine hour?"

Hans spun around, surprisingly fast for someone who had trouble staying on his feet, and grunted. "Fuck off, woman," he growled, his words slurring. "Mind your own business. I'm waiting for someone."

"That someone," Elsa said, shooting a warning glance at Merida, "is a girl you met on Instagram who told you to come here for a good time, am I right?"

How the guy in front of her had ever been able to come across as charming, was something Elsa couldn't explain. Hans approached her at a brusque pace, stumbling and with his breathing heavy, dilated pupils roaming over them. And when he came to a halt in front of her, it was like he towered over her, intimidating, even though he couldn't be much taller than she was.

"Do I… Do I _know_ you?" He asked, studying her features with narrowed eyes, trying to link a name to her face. Had Anna ever shown him a picture of her? Elsa wasn't sure, but she doubted that was the case. Her sister would have mentioned her name a couple of times, but as far as Elsa knew, Anna didn't even possess any pictures of her. No, she just reminded him of Anna in the dark of the night, that had to be it; same build, same light freckles, same blue eyes. But Elsa's were colder.

"You do now. But I'll be straight with you: after tonight, you're going to wish you never even heard my name."

She heard Merida stifle a laugh next to her, probably because of her use of the word 'straight', and she kept a careful eye on Hans. His frustration seemed to grow, hanging around him like the stench of alcohol, and he licked his lips, almost nervous. "Little girls don't scare me. Who are you?"

_Little girls?_ Elsa grabbed hold of the tail of Merida's grey T-shirt to keep her in place, lest she start yelling or throwing punches. She knew her friend had a short temper, and she didn't even need to look her in the eyes to know she was seething with rage.

"I think you know my name," Elsa told him, swallowing her own rising anger and keeping her calm as well as she could. "I'm Anna's sister. Remember Anna? You hurt her feelings earlier today."

It took some time for those words to land in Hans' drunken brain. Elsa watched as the gears in his head turned with great difficulty, as if he couldn't even remember what he'd had for breakfast, let alone know the name of the girl whose heart he'd broken earlier.

"Ah. Right." He shrugged, raking his hand through his haggard hair. "And that's my problem, because…?"

Elsa couldn't believe what she was hearing. Drunk or not, the confusion in Hans' eyes seemed genuine. He didn't see anything _wrong _with what he'd done, didn't realize how nasty of a stunt he'd pulled on Anna Arens. She'd given him her heart, only for him to leave it bruised and broken, and he didn't even understand the sheer hurting he'd caused.

He had to feel the pain Anna had felt, one way or another.

"That's your problem," Elsa hissed, "because what goes around, comes around. Don't think for a _second_ you can get away with hurting my sister. If she suffers at your hand, you suffer at mine."

She watched in delight as the boy shivered, hugging himself to stay warm as he tried and failed to understand where the cold came from, his mind deluded by the alcohol he'd consumed. His teeth chattered, so hard it must've hurt, and Elsa was almost sad she couldn't use her powers in a more obvious way. An ice spike to the head, perhaps? It would scare him right.

"So here's what I'm offering," she told Hans, letting go of Merida's shirt and taking a step forward to get closer to him as he squirmed. "You're going to hand me the 300 kroner you won in that bet, and you're going to swear not to try anything with my sister or some other poor girl ever again. In fact, don't even _look_ at Anna if it's not necessary. Do you think you understand?"

Alcohol, she'd heard before, made men brave, and Hans had consumed his fair share of the stuff. Like a fool, he gathered his courage and had the audacity to scoff and talk back to her. "Who do you think you _are_? Just because you're Anna's bitch of a sister, doesn't mean you get to give me orders. Go home and cry about it, 'cause I'm not doing any of that shit, you hear me?"

An ice spike to the head really _did_ seem like a good idea. Elsa wasn't sure how much of this guy's bitching she could stomach as she felt frost creeping up her hands and arms. Would he even remember it if she used her powers to knock him out cold? Was there a chance Hans was so drunk no one, not even he himself, would believe he'd actually spoken to a woman with ice magic? She wasn't one for senseless violence, but she'd make an exception if it meant raising hell on the boy who'd hurt her sister. And there was always the Company's Memory Alteration Procedure she could use to her advantage, though the paperwork would be a pain…

She calmed down a bit when she felt a warm presence of Merida's body as the redhead pulled her into some sort of half-hug from behind. Her face was so close to Elsa's that red curls tickled her cheeks, and the feeling of her breath against her ice-cold skin was enough to make Elsa's heart skip a few beats.

"I know you've got this under control," Merida mumbled in her ear, and there was no dishonesty to be spotted there. "But I'm getting cold and hungry here, and this fucker's there is _really_ starting to piss me off."

Elsa understood. She gave the slightest nod, letting her friend know it was okay, and hated the moment Merida let go of her, an ominous smile on her face and cracking her knuckles as she approached Hans.

"Now listen here, asshole," she told him, this time in perfect English instead of bothering with Norwegian. "First thing you should know is that if you know what's good for you, you don't disrespect me, and you especially don't disrespect _her_." She jabbed her thumb at Elsa, who thought it was better to take on the role of silent observer. "Got that noted?"

It had to be the alcohol talking, or Hans Westerguard didn't understand what basic fear was. "I still don't get why I should listen to-"

He didn't finish his sentence. One lightning-fast kick to his knee, and he was on the dirty ground, howling in pain. Elsa prayed Merida hadn't brought a gun for extra intimidation points, because if she'd done that, Hans would have been crying his eyes out and pathetically begging for mercy within seconds.

"I'm going to give you a choice," Merida stated, crouching down so she was at eye-level with her target and grabbing hold of his arms with enough strength to keep him in place. "You can either start emptying your pockets, or you can pick a number between one and ten. Are you following?"

That couldn't end well.

Hans yelped and nodded frantically, eyes wide and fearful as he looked the redhead up and down. "Number… I, I want a number. Seven?"

The suspicions Elsa had harboured regarding that choice were confirmed soon enough, when Merida answered with a solemn nod. "Fine. I'll break seven of your fingers and call it a night. Last chance to change your mind, mate."

"No!" Hans began stammering, making panicked noises Elsa thought inhuman as he tried to struggle out of Merida's grip. "I mean, yes! Yes! I want to change my mind! You can, you can take all my money, just…leave, leave me… leave me alone, I beg you!"

Merida stood up and held out her hand to help the boy up, staring down at him with an amused expression. "_Now_ we're getting somewhere."

"Mer…" Elsa began, knowing what would happen next. She almost felt sorry for Hans when he took Merida's hand without even hesitating, and found himself pulled up roughly and shoved towards the wall. He groaned as his face collided with a graffiti-skeleton painted on the cold bricks, and he reached for his nose to stop the blood trickling down his face.

"Almost done," Merida told her with a small smile, her terrifying facade slipping away the moment she laid eyes on Elsa. But when she turned back to Hans, who moaned and mumbled curses and held his painful head in his hands, her expression grew harsh again. "If Mr. Westerguard here has the decency to behave and do as he's asked, I won't have to use force. Well, not _again_. Your pockets, Westerguard, and hurry up a little."

Hans had lost all his earlier bravado and didn't bother to argue, following the order fast. He jammed his shaking hands into his pockets and pulled the contents out so wildly he almost dropped them to the floor. "Uh… Wallet… Smartphone… granola bar…" he summed up, fearful eyes drifting from Merida to Elsa to Merida again.

"Keep that phone," Merida grumbled. "We want 300 kroner and that goddamn granola bar, yeah? You give us that, and then you'll leave and we'll leave and you never bother Anna Arens again."

With a begrudging nod, Hans handed Merida what she'd asked for. The triumphant smile on the redhead's face was enough to brighten Elsa's night, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"I'm… I'm gonna call the police," Hans spat at them as he scrambled away, leaning on the wall for support. A final blow that could've hurt if the circumstances had been different.

"Do it," Elsa blurted in reply. "See what happens. I know all the right people in all the right places." She smirked. "But you're bluffing, aren't you? You wouldn't admit to being attacked by _little girls._"

The last obscenity Hans yelled as stormed off was one Elsa thought even _Merida_ wouldn't repeat, but she didn't let it get to her. Still, she sighed in relief when he'd disappeared into the night, gone off to drink his sorrows away in some club and find someone else to give him that good time he hadn't been having so far. He'd paid for what he'd done to Anna, and it made Elsa's night much better than it had been before.

"Gross," Merida stated, munching on the granola bar and glaring at it as she came to stand next to Elsa. "But better than nothing." She handed Elsa the money. "For you, m'lady."

Elsa took the kroner from her with a smile. "Thanks. I'll sneak these into Anna's wallet, first chance I get."

"Go do that. She deserves it." Merida scratched the back of her neck, giving Elsa an awkward look. "You're really sure I don't have to kill him?"

"I'm… I'm sure, yeah. He'll think twice before he'll hurt anyone again."

"As he should."

A silence fell, louder than the noises of Grünerløkka around them. Elsa wanted to say something, but didn't know what. Was there anything they hadn't discussed yet? The weather, perhaps? No. Small talk wasn't her forte, and it wasn't Merida's either. The one thing Elsa could consider talking about, was work. The bug Merida had found in Rapunzel's room, or the theft at the Port that they hadn't stopped. But what was there to say about those things that hadn't been said yet? There was no use in discussing mysteries still unsolved, right?

While she was still thinking about a conversation starter, Merida took the initiative upon finishing her granola bar: "so what now?"

Elsa blinked a couple of times, taking her time to process the question. "I… could bring you home."

That would be the sensible option, right? It was late, a little past two in the morning, and in all honesty, it was for the best if they parted ways and used what remained of the night to get some proper sleep. And yet, Elsa didn't want Merida to leave already, as much as she hated it, as much as she hated _herself_ for it. Even if they were just playing a game, there was something warm and comforting about having the redhead around, and everything about her felt so _right_ even though Elsa knew it was wrong.

"Or we can go to my place and have coffee."

She'd said it before she could stop herself and cursed the words the moment they left her mouth.

Merida crossed her arms, an adorable, questioning expression appearing on her face. "When you say coffee, are you talking about actual coffee, or is it an invitation to something else?"

It was a good question. Elsa had to admit she wasn't sure she knew the answer. But when she gave it some thought, she decided to go with the riskiest answer: "actual coffee."

She watched the redhead process that, seeing her entire train of thought displayed in her expressions. It seemed like the answer had genuinely surprised her, and Elsa made a mental note never to give such an answer again. Why would Merida want to have coffee with her, anyway, especially after she'd threatened her a week ago? But when her friend gave her a big grin, Elsa questioned everything she knew and all her feelings once again.

"I'd love some actual coffee."

Elsa told herself it meant nothing, because it _didn't_. But did that matter? As long as she could enjoy Merida's company, she was content, even if it was just for tonight.

"There's no way to know what happens _after _actual coffee, though," she added with a sly look, feeling bold enough to try her luck.

Merida, who pretty much had 'bold' for a middle name, gave her a lazy, mischievous smile full of dangerous implications. 

"And I'd like to find out."

~~~

The tea was sweet, the night was warm, and the redhaired thug was back again.

Mr. Weselton was not amused in the slightest.

Not that he was ever amused, mind you. He hadn't been truly amused ever since that _witch_ moved into the apartment next to him. Godforsaken Elsa Arens with her cat from hell.

Oh, what he wouldn't give to return to the peaceful days before her arrival, in which he had been able to simply sip his tea, admire his collection of old paintings, and sit in the sun on his balcony without a care in the world.

Truth be told… he still did all of those things. _But that wasn't the point_. When the Witch had moved in next to him, bringing the unknown with her, Mr. Weselton's peace had been disturbed in the worst way possible. His safety and sanity, as he told himself, fought a constant battle against the threat called Elsa Arens.

He hadn't liked her from the start. When she'd first arrived, Mr. Weselton had put on his good shoes and clothes, and friendly as he was, he had gone out of his way to knock on her door and make her acquaintance. He'd told her, well-meaning as always, everything he expected her to do and everything he expected her _not_ to do. Just to make sure neither of them would be much of a bother to the other, of course. And what had she done? She'd given him a curt nod and a sarcastic 'sure' when he finished talking, and she'd shut the door right in his face.

How rude that had been! And when he'd tried to make her understand how rude she'd been the next time he'd seen her, when he'd explained that they'd gotten off on the wrong foot but that he would be generous enough give her a second chance, she'd sighed and rolled her eyes at him. Rolled. Her. Eyes.

And that was only the start of it.

For two years, two long, agonizing years, Mr. Weselton had tolerated that evil young woman's presence. He had _endured_, even though the witch seemed to do everything in her power to make him most uncomfortable. She went out and about at the strangest times, left for days in a row without a word, only to be secretive and aloof when he tried to make friendly conversation and inquired about her job or whereabouts. 

Other times, she shut herself inside and never ventured outside for days. She didn't even have the decency to invite him over for a cup of tea every once in a while, despite having nothing better to do anyway! Oh, Weselton knew what young people got up to when they isolated themselves from the outside world. Drugs and satanic rituals and _black magic._

Elsa Arens, he was convinced, was a witch. An evil sorceress, corrupting everything she touched. How else would she have been able to poison his and his beloved neighbourhood's peace with such ease? Her strange and secretive habits and her antisocial behaviour fed into his suspicion, and on top of that, her presence made him feel physically uncomfortable. How often had he shivered beneath her icy gaze, or found goosebumps travelling up his arms, or slipped on what seemed to be nothing when she was around?

It couldn't be a coincidence. The Witch had cursed him with cold magic. Not that he had any concrete proof; he had never seen the dark arts he was sure she dabbled in, and he knew too little to convince any of his other neighbours of Arens' supposed deals with the Devil. But he trusted his instincts, and his instincts told him the freak of nature next door endangered his tranquil life. A woman so sinful and rotten to the core had no business being in his general vicinity.

He'd almost felt sorry for that energetic younger girl who'd been sent to live with her. Anna? Her name was Anna. The little sister, who still believed her sibling _wasn't_ a total lost cause. Weselton, in a fit of his usual kindness, had done his utmost best to warn the girl of what she was getting herself into, and he hoped she'd seen what he meant when her older sister had had the audacity to twist his words and steal his kitten without any shame whatsoever.

But how had that young lady thanked him? She'd yelled at him when he refused to help her when her deadbeat sister had decided to pass out before her front door, further defiling the building's good name with her irresponsible actions. Weselton, knowing the Witch was anything but deserving of his help, good-for-nothing as she was, had had every right to deny the girl the help she'd asked for. And she'd yelled at him anyway, her voice ringing through the night, and he'd had to tell her to keep quiet, because really, had she no decency whatsoever?

It was then that he realised young Anna Arens had been corrupted by her sister, after spending only a few weeks with her. So young, and already on the path of evil… a tragic turn of events, but it had been inevitable, he supposed. And when she'd contacted the redhaired thug, of all people, he knew there was no longer any use to praying for her poor, lost soul.

If there was anyone old Mr. Weselton despised more than Elsa Arens, it was that horrible thug clinging to her like a faithful puppy. If the puppy was a snake in disguise, that was. Oh, how Weselton hated the bitch. He couldn't stand how her complete lack of manners was evident in her every move, how dirty and haggard her looks and clothes were (_blood_ on them, almost always… _disgusting_), and he hated how she stared right through him with that unnerving, bored gaze, as if he wasn't worth her time and never would be. He never failed to notice how she'd flash him her middle finger when the Witch wasn't looking, and he couldn't believe she even had the audacity to treat him in such a way. He never said anything about it, though; deep down, he was scared of her, afraid of what damage she could do with those scarred knuckles and razor-sharp smirks.

What he hated most, however, was that sinful relationship he knew the women shared. Weselton wasn't blind; he saw everything that went on in the apartment building he'd spent so many years in, and that the Witch and the redhaired thug had some sort of _romance _going on was not a secret to him. He'd recognized the playful, flirty looks filled with desire and perhaps even affection, and he'd noticed how the thug always seemed to be touching his neighbour in some way, even if it was something as innocent as pushing a lock of hair out of her face or tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention and keeping her hand there for mere seconds too long. And the Witch _allowed_ all of it, because she enjoyed the whole unholy ordeal and because she herself didn't possess a single shred of decency either.

It was unnatural and dark and _wrong_. _Everything _about those women was wrong. Mr. Weselton considered himself a respectable man from a respectable neighbourhood, and he didn't need to be associated with such people in any way. It was his mission, no, his _duty_, to get rid of the two troublemakers, those who left nasty stains on the peaceful perfection of his home and life.

It had been half past two in the morning when Weselton woke up with a thirst. He'd stumbled out of bed, yawning loudly, and he'd made for his kitchen to make himself a nice, steaming cup of chamomile tea to help him sleep. And as he stood in his kitchen, he'd heard voices outside. The soft one belonging to the Witch, and the much louder one with the Scottish accent.

Weselton couldn't _believe _they had the audacity to make so much noise with their chatting. Didn't they realize people were trying to sleep? It was almost three in the morning, for Christ's sake! Even when he got up late at night for tea, they couldn't stop bothering him. It was _scandalous_, and nothing else.

He peeked through his curtains to glance, no, _glare _at the insolent youths talking outside as they unlocked the door to Elsa Arens' apartment, but neither of the two spotted him. The thug didn't even grace him with a middle finger or a worldless promise to knock his teeth out later. They were too caught up in their own little world, without a doubt up to something sinful. Annoyed and unable to keep his eyes on the disgusting scene, Weselton scrambled back to his kitchen table and set his cup down so hard he almost burned his fingers on his own hot tea spilling out. 

He had had enough of it.

With all the bitterness he possessed clouding his thought and vision, he took his phone and dialled the number he'd grown familiar with in the last few weeks, muttering curses and complaints under his breath. His Lifesaver would help him, he was sure of it. The fact that it was very early in the morning didn't stop him; she had, after all, told him to contact her whenever he deemed important.

_"Why, Mr. Weselton. To what do I owe the honour?"_

Ah, the sound of her voice was music to his ears. The day the woman had first contacted him had been a joyful one, one he had fond memories of. He had been skeptical at first, of course: who was she, what did she want from him, where had she gotten his number? He had asked her those questions and she had answered, and he had listened with patience, growing more comfortable with the woman on the phone with every word that left her mouth.

The woman had told him that she couldn't tell him her name, for she was undercover and could not risk her identity being known. She worked with the law, she'd said, and she had been keeping an eye on his neighbour Elsa Arens and what went on in her life. When Weselton had heard that, he'd rejoiced. The gut feeling he'd trusted, telling him there was something dark about the Witch next door, had been right all along. And fate, like a miracle, had brought the woman on the phone, his Lifesaver, to him.

"They just got back home, ma'am. Arens and the thug. It is _early_, and I won't stand for this. When do you believe you and your people can solve this problem?"

It was about high time his Lifesaver took adequate steps to _arresting_ that bitch already, and her thug friend too. The sister could walk free, for all he cared, as long as she went to live somewhere else. Yes, police interference was what Weselton wished for. With the police lady on the phone on his side, he could get rid of the Witch once and for all.

His Lifesaver chuckled, amused at his words. _"My organisation isn't ready yet, Mr. Weselton. You've been a great help, but we can't act just yet."_

When she'd first mentioned how she was after Elsa Arens, Weselton had spilled everything he knew about the woman. Not that he knew much about her, but he had been happy to finally voice every little frustration and theory and suspicion he'd kept bottled up in his tiny body. The woman had listened and taken notes, and when he had been done talking, she'd thanked him and told him to call her whenever he had information that could help her.

The old man's moustache twitched as he pushed his glasses up. "What more do you need? These women are evil and rotten, and you know it as well as I do."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. The woman did that, sometimes, calculating every word she said. Weselton didn't care, as long as she made his deepest desires come true.

_"Everything in its own time, sir. You must understand that my boss won't be pleased if I were to… botch this. It might be that I have but one chance left to make this work."_

At moments like these, when she said stuff like that, the slightest bit of doubt crept into Weselton's heart. He watched many detective shows in his free time, and words like the ones she spoke at times seemed more like a villain's than those of an honourable police detective. Then again, that _was_ television, and he had been taught not to be so gullible when it came to believing what the blasted device showed him.

"Best not to botch anything, then," he told her, forgetting his doubts when he remembered his goal: restoring peace and order to his apartment building. "I wouldn't want her to end up _staying_, after all. Is there anything I can do to assist you? To speed matters up, so to say?"

He could almost picture the smirk on her face still shrouded in shadows. When she spoke to him next, her tone was sweet and friendly, words of honey he soaked right up. "_Actually_," she began, "_You can. If Anna Arens happens to be going anywhere without her sister or Dunbroch… a night out with friends, so to say, or an aimless walk at night… would you inform us, if you noticed any such a thing? We believe she's a key to her sister, you see. I'd like a private word with her."_

Weselton nodded so fast his glasses almost slid off his nose. "I understand, ma'am," he said. "I'll be sure to let you know." She made him feel necessary, important. The _law _needed his help, and for such a noble goal too! The old man saw and heard many things as he crept around the building he lived in, and letting his Lifesaver know what Anna Arens was up to was no difficult task. He was sure he could provide his saviour on the phone with a myriad of opportunities to go confront his young neighbour.

"_Thank you so much for your assistance,"_ said the woman on the phone. "_We'll keep in touch, sir. For now, have a good night."_

She'd hung up the phone before he could thank her once more for making an effort to rid him of those evil women, but he could handle that, caught in the euphoria of being useful to the police for once. His mood, soured by the sight of the Witch and her thug, had improved, and he even found himself humming the words to a cheerful song from his childhood.

With a happy and proud feeling in his chest, like a retiring army general celebrating his last victory, Weselton retreated back into his room with his cup of tea, readying himself for the rest of the night. He lay down with a smile and slept, and he dreamt of a world better than the one he lived in now. A world in which redhaired thugs and evil witches bothered him no longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon Weselton's first name to be Richard. I dunno, I jist think he's a real Dick.
> 
> By the way, just out of curiosity: how'd all you people find this story? The amount of people interested in this surprises me every time.


	12. Chapter 11: Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna reaches the conclusion that it's time to start meddling.

Was it _possible_ to feel both tired and energetic at the same time? Anna was sure that, biologically speaking, it was not. And yet, that was how she felt as she fumbled with the spare apartment keys Elsa had given her. They jingled in her hands when she opened the door, allowing sunlight to seep into the dusky entrance hall.

It was nine in the morning, and Anna figured she functioned on a solid three to four hours of sleep. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes, wondering how in the hell her mind had thought it a good idea to stay up for pretty much the whole night; she was fond of sleeping, for a long time too, and missing out on one of her favourite activities felt like blasphemy.

Still, she had no regrets. She was happy to have given up some well-deserved rest in exchange for an amazing night with her friends. Moana's boat had been a treat, and she'd loved the feeling of freedom that had come with sailing the Oslofjord beneath the stars, when they had the water to themselves and the only evidence of other people still being out there were the tiny lights from houses and restaurants on the shore. Looking back now, Anna already missed the salty scent of the sea, and Kristoff smiling with his arms full of snacks, and Moana barking orders at her 'crew' in a joking fashion.

It had been the best distraction from her heartbreak she could ever have wished for, and she was glad she at least had such good friends she could count on. She already missed them, even though Kristoff had dropped her off at home only minutes ago. She could've spent a whole weekend out on the water, not worrying about anything at all, but she also knew life went on, and there was more to it than running from her sorrows. She looked forward to telling Elsa all about her adventures, and that thought made it easier to deal with being home again.

What also made it easier, was the familiar, chocolatey scent caressing her nostrils as she slipped out of her coat and shoes. It reminded her that it was a saturday. Her stomach rumbled; though Kristoff had provided them with a variety of pastries, sandwiches and carrots ("Mom insisted I got us something healthy, too"), Anna had to admit the nutritional value left much to be desired. Wringing her hands together in anticipation, she entered the living room, eager to get her hands on breakfast.

"There's chocolateness in the air here!" She announced loudly, as if Elsa wasn't aware of that yet. Her eyes drifted around the room, and the first thing she noticed was that her sister wasn't alone. Merida Dunbroch was seated opposite of her, eyeing Anna with a confused cat-ate-the-canary kind of look. Not that it surprised the younger girl; when Elsa had said she'd had plans, she'd figured from the start it would involve Merida in one way or another.

Speaking of plans… Anna glanced at her phone in the pocket of her jeans. Judging from the peculiar message she had received, Elsa would have some explaining to do. It wasn't a top priority, not with chocolate pancakes begging to be eaten, but it wasn't something that could be ignored either.

Elsa seemed startled for a second, before laughing lightly upon realizing who had entered. "Chocolateness isn't a word," she said, an amused twinkle in her eyes.

Anna shrugged, rushing to get herself a plate and maple syrup. On the dinner table, the pancakes beckoned. "Yes, it is."

It was Merida who commented on that statement, not even bothering to swallow her bite first. "Not in English, not in Norwegian, it's not."

In her haste for breakfast, Anna stubbed her toe against one of the dinner table's legs. She let out a hiss and blinked the tears from her eyes before gracing the redhead with an answer. "It _is_ a word because I said so. Besides, I live in this apartment and you don't. Which means my opinion is more valid here."

Merida's grumbled reply consisted of words Anna couldn't place, nor did she want to. She supposed they didn't mean anything positive, and getting on the bad side of a murderer still seemed like a bad idea. While she'd seen enough of the redhead to know she was friendly enough and anything but unreasonable, it was for the better if a part of her remained wary. Looks could be deceiving; Hans had done a good job at teaching her that.

"You're late, by the way."

Elsa, who had been taking a sip of her morning tea, promptly set her cup down. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know…" Anna said as she dug into her delicious pancake. "It's… nine, half past nine? You're up at seven most of the time. Not that it's _bad _that you're late, I mean, if you're finally learning you should sleep in on a saturday, that's great! But it's not… like you."

"Sleep late, wake up late." There was such a nonchalance to Merida's words that Anna expected an elaboration on the 'sleep late' part. It didn't come.

Perhaps for the better.

"If you don't mind," she said with a bright, awkard smile, "I'm not going to ask for a detailed account of your night, enjoyable as it may have been for you."

Merida turned as red as her hair and stuffed her mouth full of pancake, probably in an attempt to avoid voicing whatever impulsive, questionable reply welled up in her mind. Elsa's hot morning tea turned to iced tea in her hands. "Good," she mumbled with a slight blush, "because neither of us would be crazy enough to answer."

Anna counted that particular blessing, finished her pancake and went straight for another. "You know, there _is_ a thing I still wanted to bring up to you guys-"

Her words were interrupted by the scraping of a chair on the floor. Merida had stood up, leaning on the table. "I should go."

It was enough to make Anna frown. For her, the smell and heavenly taste of the chocolate pancakes were enough to brighten up her morning and her mood. Merida, on the other hand, seemed a little tense, and the younger girl couldn't figure out why.

"Huh?"

She admitted the question wasn't the most intelligent one she'd asked, but she couldn't help it. Had she said something wrong? Anna couldn't imagine she'd done anything of the sort, but the thought she'd accidentally hurt anyone's feelings stung.

"What you said." There was _nothing_ in Merida's voice she could use to figure out what she'd done wrong: no accusation or anger, no pain or sadness or misery of any other kind. A casual statement, nothing more. "We _are_ late. 'S time for me to get going."

Anna blinked a couple of times. "I didn't mean you-have-to-_leave _kind of late," she protested, looking to Elsa for help. 

Her sister, however, simply shrugged. "If that's what you want, go ahead." 

If Elsa had been bothered by the words, Anna figured, there would have been a change in temperature. Yet, she didn't find herself shivering, nor did she hear her teeth chattering. Their living room remained as warm as before.

She watched as a slight smile broke out on Merida's face. Not quite as relaxed as usual, but not broken either. It lacked its lazy confidence, though Anna couldn't detect any hints that it may have been a fake smile. If there was any word she could have used to describe it, she thought as she took another bite of pancake, it would have been… _confused_.

"Guess I'll see you later, then." Merida fidgeted with her jacket for a bit, ran a hand through her hair, and turned to leave without a second glance. Still casual, still nonchalant. Anna wasn't sure how it made her feel. She took in Elsa's goodbye and her own mumbled one, but no words registered in her mind.

When the redhead was gone, she turned to Elsa with a slight frown. "Did I say something wrong? She left so fast…" she couldn't help but wonder if she'd said anything to cause the sudden disappearance of her sister's sort-of-but-not-really lover. If that had been the case, it would be nice to hear _what _exactly she'd done wrong; she had no appetite for a conflict with a murderer. Her stomach churned at the mere thought of it.

"No?" Elsa spoke as if she was completely confused as to why Anna even saw it fit to ask, and the look in her eyes implied the same. "You said we were late, so she decided on impulse it was late and she had to go. I know her. There's nothing more to it, believe me."

Anna's frown didn't disappear. She pushed her cold plate away from herself, satisfied, and allowed those words to sink in. "That's… weird."

It didn't faze Elsa in the slightest. "That's _Merida_," she said, rising out of her seat and walking towards the coffee table, where she kneeled to take her laptop from the lower tier, lightly pushing Olaf out of the way. "She does what she wants to do and doesn't give a damn when people don't understand her actions. I swear, you don't have anything to worry about."

The words weren't as comforting as Anna had hoped they would be. While she knew her sister had a point, she was sure she hadn't imagined the apparent confusion on the redhead's face, even though she was tired and high on the lingering scent of chocolate. Where had that come from, if not from anything she'd said? Was she reading into it too much and were quick departures like the one she'd witnessed part of Elsa's agreement with Merida? All she knew was that she didn't have a clue.

In any case, Elsa's laptop didn't freeze in her hands as she plopped it down on the dinner table with a light thud, meaning _she_, at least, wasn't bothered. And if Elsa didn't feel bothered, why would Anna feel that way? Still, the whole thing didn't sit well with her. She eyed her sister and the laptop with a hint of suspicion, trying to make sense of the situation, and figured she'd get back to it later. "What are you doing?"

The sound of Elsa's typing filled the room. "Finances."

"Seriously? Now?"

"What do you mean, 'now'?" Elsa closed her eyes for a brief second. "I haven't been taking any assignments in a while, so we're living on the money I've got left from my Helsinki job. I need to know how long that's going to last."

It was a fair point, Anna had to admit that much. And yet, she thought part of her sister's sudden haste to get to her laptop without even bothering to clean the dishes or dinner table as usual, stemmed from a desire to avoid a certain conversation instead of the need to sort out potential financial issues. Anna remembered what she'd been trying to bring up earlier, and decided Elsa wouldn't be let off easily this time. Like a pit bull, she'd clamp down on her prey hard, amd she wouldn't let go.

"So…" she began, "_plans_."

Elsa didn't bother to look up from her screen, but her tone was warning. "If you're planning on joking about my love life, you might want to let it go right away."

Chocolate pancakes or not, Anna would show no mercy. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, almost dropping it to the floor in her enthusiasm, and hummed in delight when she placed it on the table with a smug little smile. "I woke up to a message this morning."

It was subtle, but the temperature in the room fluctuated ever so slightly. Anna gave herself a mental compliment for being able to pick up on her sister's sudden anxiety, though she did berate herself for causing it in the first place.

"You did?" 

Elsa wasn't nearly as good as Merida at feigning casual indifference. Anna could feel it in her bones.

"Yeah. It was an apology text. Guess who sent it?"

It was a stupid question, and she figured she deserved the sassy reply her sister gave her as she narrowed her eyes to look at her laptop screen more closely. "Oh, I don't know. Donald Trump himself? An apology for being an obnoxious clown?"

Anna scrunched up her nose. "Of course not. I'm talking about _Hans_." She placed her elbow on the table, cursed lightly when she found her sleeve stained by sweet, icky maple syrup, and propped her chin up. "He said it was wrong of him to have said the things he said, and that he realised he'd made a mistake and wanted to apologize, and that he'd leave me all alone after that."

Even lower temperature. Anna licked her lips in anticipation upon seeing her suspicions pretty much confirmed. Her words had come through loud and clear, and she was sure Elsa saw in which direction they were heading.

"Good. He owed you that much." In spite of the slight chill, Elsa's neutral expression didn't suggest she was hiding something. A good quality in a spy. Her tone didn't betray anything either, and even her eyes didn't do as much as wander uncomfortably. Perfect poker face.

"That's all you're gonna say?" Anna shifted in her seat, eyebrows raised.

"Well, yeah? What else would you like to hear?"

Recalling the text she'd woken up to, Anna remembered the _fear_ she'd felt was captured in the words. Hans' text, sweet and apologetic as it might have been, had been tainted; it held an anxiety hidden within them, and she could picture Hans as he ate a quick breakfast, typing fast with hurried fingers and wide eyes. 

Hans, who had torn her heart open and stomped on it for good measure, had also not shown any remorse while doing so. He'd spoken in such a cruel way and with such a darkness to his features, turning into such a monster in Anna's eyes that his pleasant scent from before became suffocating, and she wouldn't believe, not even for a second, that the boy had had an appetite for apologies. He'd needed some convincing.

And with Elsa having _plans_… it felt too suspicious to be a coincidence.

"Admit it," Anna said, almost with a sing-song in her voice. "You want me to think your whole 'plans' thing turned out to be nothing but a bit of fooling around with Merida, but I _know_ that's not the case. I see what you did there, dearest sister. You had a couple of words with my ex-crush."

Elsa bit her lip as her fingers stilled on her keyboard, the sound of her typing dying away slowly. "Even if I did… what about it?"

Yes, what about it? Anna took in her sister's inquiring gaze and took her time thinking of an answer. She considered asking Elsa what exactly had transpired the night before; had Hans been hurt, or chewed out, or traumatized in any other way? Curiosity often took hold of the younger girl when she caught sight of interesting events such as this one, and today was no different. It was tempting to go ahead and demand answers.

And yet, she thought to herself, she wasn't entirely sure she _wanted_ to know the details. She knew Hans had paid a price for his assholery, but how high had that price been? Elsa tended to use words for a weapon, but Merida had been there too, and the redhead had, according to her sister, a more aggressive and forceful manner of communicating. Was it worth it to hear about all the gruesome details of Hans' confrontation and risk vomiting up her breakfast?

It wasn't, she decided as she metaphorically buried her curiosity alive. If she didn't know, she didn't need to go through the trouble of deciding if she approved of the ethics behind the whole ordeal either. Instead, she settled for the easier option, and with twinkling eyes, she spoke to her sister with a chirpy voice: "It would mean you _meddled_."

Upon hearing those words, Elsa's face turned as confused as Merida's had inexplicably been before. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

"Don't worry," Anna said, clicking her tongue. "I'll jog your memory. Remember the day I first met Merida? When we made an agreement together?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you said you wouldn't meddle in my romance with Hans if _I_l_ wouldn't meddle in _your_ romance with Merida." Anna was sure she was beaming so much she gave off as much warmth as the sun itself. "But now you've meddled, and you know what that means, right? You've given me a free pass to meddle too!"

Elsa let out a frustrated groan before diverting her attention back to her laptop screen. "You can't meddle in my romance because there _is_ no romance. Don't you have anything better to do than pester me with this nonsense? Taking a shower, brushing your teeth?"

Pretending to think long and hard, Anna hummed as she stroked her chin, staring up at the ceiling for good measure. "How about absolutely not?" She turned to Elsa like an insect to the sweet scent of flypaper. "I've got questions, you know. So… do you like Merida or not?"

Straight to the point. Her hunger for answers to all kinds of questions she'd asked her sister had never been adequately stilled, and she'd been waiting long enough to ask this particular question and receive an actual, serious answer. She felt anticipation course through her and pricked up her ears in order not to miss anything.

"Didn't I tell you already? I don't."

Anna frowned, trying to lock eyes with her sibling, but failing to. "That's a lie."

"Is that so?"

"_Yes_. Come on, Els, you made her pancakes. You don't make pancakes that delicious to share them with someone you _don't _like."

With a sigh, Elsa moved to adjust the screen of her laptop, which Anna considered to be an evasive manoeuvre of sorts. She prayed in silence that she wouldn't end up being responsible for her sister freezing her precious laptop.

"I share pancakes with you, too, so by that logic, I should like _you_. Romantically. Do you see the fallacy there?"

"That's _different_." Anna slammed her hands down on the table in frustration. "If you want me to convince you, I've got heaps of evidence to talk your ears off with. I mean, I know what I'm seeing, okay? You text her, like, all the time, and you kind of look at her the way Mom used to look at Dad, and I swear, there's no way there weren't any feelings involved at all when you were kissing her a few days ago, and-"

When Elsa cut her off, she almost felt relieved, for she'd been close to spilling she knew Merida was her sister's emergency number. "_Anna_." There was a sharp edge to her voice. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Like hell I do." She hoped Elsa took note of the fire in her eyes. "I think you're not only lying to _me_ when you say you don't like Merida, but you're lying to yourself too. You're in denial."

The week's finances must have been taken care of, because Elsa slammed her laptop screen down hard, a slight coating of frost crawling across the device. That, or she simply couldn't stomach any more of their conversation. Anna decided it was best to keep her mouth closed tight and wait for her sibling to speak.

"You think you understand, but you _don't_." Defeat defined the look on Elsa's face. "I know Merida, okay? She doesn't _do_ relationships, she doesn't _do_ romance. All I've ever seen her look for are one-night stands she can amuse herself with until she gets bored, and even if I _did_ like her, it doesn't matter, alright? It doesn't. If your feelings aren't going to be returned, why have them in the first place?"

She couldn't say so for sure, but Anna thought it was the first time her sister had given in to her relentless questioning. Holding her breath, the younger girl listened to the words and let them sink in as she studied her sibling's features. She saw frustration and annoyance there, mixed with the slightest hint of misery, and the idea she was responsible for it made her throat go dry and her stomach flip.

"Elsa," she began softly, "don't you ever think you could be wrong?"

Though Elsa _did_ know the redhead like she claimed, Anna couldn't help but feel like she'd glossed over the actual facts, choosing to see only what she wanted to see: that it was impossible for Merida Dunbroch to harbour any actual feelings towards her. If Elsa wanted to believe that, Anna thought, she _could_. She had a right to make that choice for herself. 

But there had been actual panic in Merida's voice when she'd been called and informed of Elsa being shot, and she'd gotten a ten-minute drive out of the way in only three minutes because she'd wanted to know if everything would be okay, and there was something so uncharacteristically soft in every quiet smile she gave Elsa that Anna had a hard time imagining Merida would say 'no' if her colleague dared to show her how much she cared instead of hiding her feelings away all the time. There _had_ to be more to it. Elsa was wrong.

"No." It was a flat statement, defeat still tainting it. Anna knew what this tone meant: conversation over. "Just let it go, Anna. You'll see it's better for things to stay the way they are."

Before Anna could retort, she felt the table top vibrate under her fingers. Her eyes drifted to her smartphone, which rang with an enthusiasm previously unknown to mankind as it blasted her favourite song through the living room.

"Would you excuse me for a sec?" She took her vibrating phone in her hands and checked to see whose voice she could expect to hear. When she spotted a small picture of Kristoff munching on a carrot and the contact name 'Smelly Reindeer King' displayed on her screen, her heart leapt. "I'll take this outside."

It was a beautiful morning, and Anna figured her sister would like some space after the conversation they'd had. Elsa seemed to agree with her decision; the nod she gave before turning back to her laptop to wipe the frost off and check for any damage was tiny, but visible nonetheless. She didn't say another word when her younger sister rushed off, leaving the lingering scent of chocolatey sweetness behind and trading it for some fresh September air.

Outside, there was more warmth than inside, and Anna assumed Elsa had something to do with that. She hadn't realized how cold she'd been before until she found herself standing in the sun on the gallery of their apartment building, with the sound of passing cars and people filling her ears, and the sight of the city waking up amazing her.

"Hey, sorry. I was… having breakfast." She pressed her phone to her ear hard to make sure Kristoff could hear her, even though her voice was often so loud she didn't need to worry about making herself heard. A smirk broke out on her face. "You saw me, like, half an hour ago? Missing me already?"

On the other end of the line, Kristoff chuckled. A pleasant sound that made Anna feel warm inside. "_I was just thinking,_" he said, and she could almost see his amused expression in front of her while he spoke. "_Moana gave you a trip on her boat to ease the pain of the Asshole King breaking your heart in a thousand pieces, but I didn't do anything for you yet."_

"That's not true," Anna protested, leaning against the cold wall of the apartment building. "You did your best to cheer me up, didn't you? I mean, your jokes weren't _that _funny, but you tried, and, well… you brought _food_."

"_Food. Exactly."_ Kristoff cleared his throat. "_Remember when you said you were always available if I ever needed any socializing practice?"_

How could she forget? She recalled their first conversation, when she'd sat in the passenger's seat of Kristoff's car, keeping her eyes on the road to point him in the right direction as cold rain crashed down on the roof and almost drowned her voice out. When they'd arrived at Elsa's apartment, she had indeed offered to help Kristoff get out of his shell more.

"Yeah, I do."

"_Well_," her friend began, "_I think I've got an idea. There's this Italian restaurant near my place. Tony's. We could have dinner there. Make it a fun night out. See it as my contribution to help you get over the Asshole King, and your contribution to me becoming a... social butterfly of sorts._"

The mental image of Kristoff as a butterfly, and a social one at that, invaded Anna's brain and gobbled all her sorrows right up. She entered a laughing fit so strong it made her hold on to her phone tighter, in order not to drop it to the floor.

"_Anna_?" The earlier confidence Kristoff had pretended to possess earlier had dissipated, leaving a nervous, awkward insecurity. _"I- I don't mean, uh, I don't mean anything… anything weird with it. It's not like an, um, date or something."_

A date? Anna's eyes widened at the thought of going on a date with Kristoff, and she found her face heat up.

"Oh, no, of course it's not," she replied, hoping she hadn't spoken so fast it became suspicious. "I wasn't thinking about that, but… It's a not-date. I mean, not a date. No, sir."

It was Kristoff's turn to laugh, and it pleased her to hear she hadn't hurt her friend's feelings. She wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes if that had been the case.

_"A not-date it is."_

Anna couldn't stop the smile breaking out on her face. "And when will this not-date be taking place?"

She startled when she heard a door creak open next to her. Her head snapped in the direction of the noise, and to her surprise, she saw the tiny figure of her neighbour, Mr. Weselton. The man had a sour look on his face, as if someone had forced him to eat a truckload of lemons, and he adjusted his shiny black coat with jerky movements, indicating a certain frustration.

"Good morning, Mr. Weselton," she tried, putting all the friendliness she had in the small greeting to make him see she meant him no harm. To no avail. Her neighbour scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"You should laugh less loudly."

There was so much venom in the words Anna wouldn't have been surprised if he'd spat on her shoes. She grimaced, wondering why punching the elderly on account of being insufferable was still illegal.

"Hope you have a nice day." She made sure to add an extra pinch of sweetness in an attempt to make him feel sorry for his rudeness, even though she was pretty sure becoming a professional sword-swallower was easier than that.

Weselton scoffed, fidgeting with his sleeves as he shuffled away from her, his soft footsteps drowned out by the noise of the city. Anna watched him go, blinking fast. At the snail's pace he stuck to, Elsa would have dinner ready by the time he made it to the stairwell.

"_Anna?"_ The sound of Kristoff's voice sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. She shook her head and tore her gaze away from Weselton, remembering she'd been in the middle of a conversation.

"I'm still here," she said quickly, "and I'm listening."

"_I was thinking, uh, next Monday? If you've got time? I could pick you up at seven."_

"Tony's, monday, seven," Anna repeated to make sure she'd heard it right. She smiled. "Sounds great, Kris."

She wondered what Kristoff looked like in that moment. Wondered if he was smiling too. 

"_Awesome. So… 'till then?"_

Kristoff couldn't see her nod, but she did it anyway. "'Till then."

When he hung up the phone, Anna almost felt sad. He had a nice voice, she thought, and he made her feel safe. _Happy_. She told herself the reason she was all warmed up inside was that she'd been standing in the sun, but deep down, she didn't believe it.

It truly _was _a beautiful morning, and the idea of going back to the cold inside was disheartening to her, though she figured Elsa had managed to regain control of her magic at that point. With one last glance at the world below her, she prepared herself to face her sister again, and-

Huh? Was that…?

In spite of the morning crowd almost swallowing her, Anna recognized the familiar shade of red. With all those curls, Merida Dunbroch was hard to miss even from a distance. She stood leaned against a street lamp, which must have been uncomfortable, and she held something to her ear. While Anna was too far away to see her lips move or make out any particular facial expression, it was obvious to her that the redhead had stopped to make a phone call.

The conversation she'd had with Elsa earlier came back to her, having made itself at home in her brain. What her sister had said about her colleague still haunted her, though she wasn't sure why. _All I've ever seen her look for are one-night stands she can amuse herself with until she gets bored._ There was no way Elsa had been right about that, was there? Anna had seen enough of the murderer to think otherwise: the speeding, the kiss, the concern, the soft smiles meant for no one but Elsa Arens herself. That couldn't all mean nothing... right?

She glanced at the door of Elsa's apartment as if expecting her sister to come out and scold her loudly for even daring to think such blasphemous thoughts, but nothing happened. It occured to her that Elsa would be busy for a while; the finances she'd been dealing with were one thing, but Anna didn't doubt she'd move on to doing the dishes after she was done, and when she'd gotten that out of the way, chances were high she'd start busying herself with research on the bug her colleague had found in Rapunzel's house.

And Merida was still right there…

Anna knew she had a tendency to make long phone calls. She'd once called Gerda to ask her one simple question about an interesting recipe for couscous she'd found online, and ended up in a conversation that lasted for a solid hour and a half. Even if Elsa hadn't been so busy, Anna was convinced her sister wouldn't miss her, assuming she was simply taking her time on the phone.

It wasn't a flawless plan. In fact, it wasn't much of a plan at all, especially since Merida had already made herself clear days ago: she'd only spill whatever information she wanted Anna to know. Squeezing an answer out of the murderer wouldn't be easy, and the chances she'd be succesful in her attempt were slim. But still, it was worth a try. Elsa was right, or she _wasn't_. There was only one person able to say which option was the right one, and because Elsa had broken their agreement, Anna was free to meddle to her heart's content. _Perfect_.

Squaring her shoulders, she stared down at the streets below her with a strong determination, her eyes fixed on the redhead making her phone call, blissfully unaware of the girl watching her. 

It was high time she confronted Merida Dunbroch about those feelings Elsa said she didn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, it's really quite strange to think about how I'm the one person in the world who knows where this story is going and how it's eventually going to end.
> 
> I dunno. Just something I think about sometimes


	13. Chapter 12: Someone better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna accompanies Merida to the supermarket while attempting to have a serious chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I update my other fanfics? Probably! But Catalysis is kind of my go-to fic when it comes to writing right now, so I hope you'll bear with me and enjoy this chapter now😅 At least I'm still productive, haha

"You said you thought you could've had the code cracked by now. Why don't you have it yet?"

Anna slowed down when Merida's Scottish accent reached her ears. She'd _ran_ down the stairs, out of the apartment building and towards the redhead, out of fear for her ending her call and leaving before the younger girl had even had a chance to rope her into a conversation. Not that the running had been necessary, in hindsight: Merida had stayed in place while talking to whoever was on the other end of the line, as if the Universe had wanted it to be that way. Anna considered it a good sign.

While Merida was still busy on the phone, Anna did see that the murderer had taken note of her presence. She found herself subjected to the redhead's scrutiny, eyes roaming all over her as if Merida were checking if she wasn't hallucinating. With a quick gesture that was anything but subtle, Anna was told to wait.

"What do you mean I sound impatient?" Merida pulled a face, and there were inklings of rage in her unwavering gaze. "Who knows what those people would've done if we hadn't found out it was a trap earlier, Haddock- No, I don't care if the theft was real, that special assignment was meant to lure us to the Port and you know it."

Leaning against the cold wall of a fastfood restaurant, Anna pricked up her ears and crossed her arms. She made sure not to stare at Merida too much, as to not give her the idea she was being eavesdropped on, and waited. She realised she hadn't quite thought out what to say to her sister's colleague, which was inconvenient. Would Merida appreciate her being straightforward? The woman did seem to like such honesty. 

But wasn't there something as being _too _straightforward? Anna suspected Merida would behave much like Elsa when it came to the topic she wanted to discuss; she'd avert her eyes, deny everything Anna implied with a blush and snap at her not to mention it anymore.

It wouldn't be easy to coax her into talking, but Anna wouldn't back down from the challenge, even if the odds weren't in her favour. She figured that if Merida tried to shoot her for bringing her unusual romance with Elsa up, she would at least have a good story for when she saw her parents again in the afterlife: 'Get a load of this, Mom, I almost got Elsa a girlfriend, but then she killed me. Shame.'

Merida, like Elsa, owned a flip phone, which strengthened Anna's belief the women indeed had such outdated devices for security reasons. She hung up with a curt goodbye and flipped her phone closed with such an aggressive restlessness that Anna was surprised she didn't see the poor thing crumble apart before her eyes.

"Anna." 

Merida studied her once more, and Anna could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out why she'd been cursed with company. It felt much like being in the presence of a dangerous animal trying to decide whether or not to eat her for lunch, which made her fidget and look for potential escape routes. Not that Merida was _scary_… No, okay, she _was_. While Anna was sure it wasn't intentional, most of the time, at least, there was always something unnerving about Merida Dunbroch. For the first time, she questioned her decision to come out to talk to her.

"Aren't you supposed to be with your sister?" It didn't sound nearly as harsh and irritated as Anna had expected, and it occurred to her she was seeing malice that wasn't there. "During breakfast when I was still there, you said there was this thing you wanted to bring up. Shouldn't you be discussing that with Elsa right now…?"

With frantic headshakes and her hands held up in defense, Anna denied that. "No, no," she explained hastily, "that wasn't, uh… that wasn't that important. It was about… I saw a strange text from Hans when I woke up today, but that's… yeah."

Merida soaked up the tiny waterfall of words Anna blurted, pushing herself away from the street lamp she'd been leaning against. "If it's advice about boys you came for, I'm afraid I can't help you," she said with an air of nonchalance. "I'm not even close to straight enough for that shit. Though I suppose I can tell you you can assert your dominance over a dude with a good punch to the face. Makes 'em respect you."

Anna closed her eyes for a second and imagined what it would be like deck Hans right on the nose. She admitted to herself that doing so sounded about as tempting as a nice cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter's morning.

"That's not why I'm here," she said, shaking the glorious mental image of Hans wailing because of a painful nosebleed away. "I wanted to see you for another reason. It's, uh…" she hesitated.

The flip phone Merida had still been holding on to found itself shoved into the pocket of the redhead's jacket in a rather careless way. "No offense, Anna, but dawdlers leave me with a bit of an aftertaste. I _am_ impatient. You can spit out what you want to say, or you can get out of my sight."

Her tone wasn't sharp, but Anna did spot an edge to it, as if she'd served Merida yet another glass of expired apple juice. Her face, though, sported an expression of confusion rather than one of hostility. 

It occurred to Anna that the murderer wasn't quite _there_. Well, she was, but it was obvious something was on her mind, something so important it consumed her attention whole. Was it that phone call? No, that couldn't be it. Merida had already been pondering before, when she'd left so fast after Anna had pointed out the time. A fight with Elsa? Impossible. It would have been colder in the apartment's living room, and Elsa wouldn't even have allowed Merida to stay if that had been the case.

Or Merida Dunbroch just woke up like that all the time, Anna thought to herself. Spacey, and in a bit of a foul mood. But even if she couldn't get the redhead's undivided attention, she told herself she'd make great use of what she _could_ get. Merida would have to be confused some other time; this was _Anna's _moment. 

She looked the murderer in the eye. "Can I walk home with you?" she asked, hoping Merida couldn't smell nervousness, irrational as that may have been. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you along the way."

The slight, almost anxious twitch of Merida's fingers implied the redhead did not like the idea of discussing anything, no matter the subject, but her gaze didn't falter once. She licked her lips, shoved her hands into her pockets. Casual, though Anna could have told anyone who asked with confidence that she was faking it.

"You can't." Merida broke their eye contact, her mouth a tight line, and proceeded to walk away at a lazy pace.

Anna sputtered out a few confused choice words about the sheer _nerve_ there, wide eyes drilling holes into the murderer's back. Okay, she'd figured out from the moment they'd met that Merida had a tendency to give zero fucks about anything ever. But still… this reeked of suspicion. Merida could _not_ repay her for those chocolate pancakes she'd eaten in this way. Well, it had been Elsa who'd made those, but that didn't matter. It was still _wrong_.

She rushed after Merida, catching up with the redhead's slow pace within seconds. "You can't just do that!" she blurted out, raising her voice more than intended. "Don't you see anything _wrong_ with walking away like that? My question was polite and _reasonable._"

"Go to hell with your politeness." There was amusement in those words, and a small smirk formed on Merida's face. "Took the bait real fast, didn't you? You're Elsa's sister. I wouldn't say no to you if I could."

Anna stashed that last statement safely away in the mental folder she used for saving information regarding Elsa and Merida's relationship. The words implied a certain respect for Elsa and her family, or even _affection._ It could mean Merida did indeed like Elsa more than the latter had thought, and Anna allowed herself to hope she had a chance at succes.

"Were you messing with me?" She asked, failing to hide her annoyance. If her words could sting, she'd let them.

"No." A crushing answer, even though it still sounded amused. "You can't walk home with me…"

Anna resisted the urge to grumble and claw her own eyes out out of frustration. She took a step closer to Merida, as if that would intimidate a trained killer, and glared. "_Why _are you being so _difficult_, I swear-"

Merida didn't bother to put more distance between them, stubbornly staying in place as she walked, damned smirk still plastered on her face. Anna caught a whiff of her scent: pine and chocolate, mixed with the faint vanilla of Elsa's perfume. 

"You didn't let me finish. You can't walk home with me because I'm not going there. I need to go to the supermarket and buy myself dinner. Feel free to tag along, if it means that much to you."

Relief and happiness came over Anna, though she couldn't shake the pang of annoyance she'd felt before. "_Thank you_," she said, letting all that frustration out, "but you couldn't have said that straight away?"

"What can I say?" Merida shrugged and picked up her pace a little. "Your sister's habits rub off on me sometimes. Hiccup said that too, over the phone."

_So she's on your mind, huh? _Anna smirked, pleased she was getting somewhere, but her mind wandered to the phone call. It had been about the assignment that had caused her sister to show up at the door _shot_, and the memory still made her anxious. What if it happened again? What if someone shot with real bullets next time, and Elsa wasn't so lucky? The thought of losing her sister, the one family member she still had, was unbearable, and so was the idea of the people who'd hurt her still being out there. Anything related to that stupid special assignment piqued Anna's interest.

"On the phone," she began hesitantly, still a bit fed up at her companion's attitude, "you were talking about… _that_ assignment. Did you find anything yet?"

She expected to be hit with a 'classified', but Merida wasn't as tight-lipped as Elsa. "'M not s'posed to be telling you much," the redhead mumbled, "but you've got a bit of a right to know. Hiccup looked into who issued the assignment for us and stumbled upon this private darkweb forum. He thinks there could be more information regarding who's behind this mess there, but he hasn't cracked the messages' code yet."

Anna frowned. "Hiccup? Code?"

"Hiccup, he's director of the Company's branch around Oslo. Good guy, though Elsa knows him much better than I do. And code, in this context, just refers to the code words and languages criminals use for communication."

Elsa knew this Hiccup well? Anna's mind drifted to a phone call she'd heard Elsa make weeks ago, in which she'd asked a guy she worked with to help her investigate her parents' death while very much looking like she wished to impale him with icicles because of his non-compliance. If that had been Hiccup, Anna felt a little sorry for him. She vowed to remember the name, in case she could use it to coax information out of Elsa.

"But you're not here to talk about my phone call. You wouldn't have come rushing at me so fast if that was what's going on."

Startling out of her thoughts, Anna locked eyes with Merida upon hearing her accented voice. "No, you're right," she said as they came to a halt in front of a supermarket. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about, no. It's… actually…"

She couldn't find the words and allowed herself to be distracted by the smell of freshly-baked bread coming from the store's bakery when they entered. Even though she had been full after her pleasant pancake breakfast, her mouth still began to water, and she felt around in the pocket of her jeans to see if she had any cash in there. She felt nothing and cursed under her breath.

"Anna." Merida's stern look, burning a bright blue beneath the dim fluorescent lights, brought her back to reality. "I'm going to have to focus on you talking to me while simultaneously trying to scavenge for dinner. Do me a favour and make it easy for me: Get. To. _The point_."

Right. Distracting, hunger-inducing scents weren't of importance. Anna could have slapped herself. "It's about Elsa."

"Elsa?" The way Merida spoke the name told Anna a lot already. There was concern in it, a hint of happy excitement with a dash of affection, and to top it all off, the slightest touch of fear, almost invisible to the naked eye. But Anna found reading people, as long as she took her time and proceeded with caution, no harder than stuffing her face with chocolate these days, and Merida Dunbroch had no secrets for her.

"Don't play dumb," she sing-songed, trailing after the murderer with a spring in her step. "Something's going on between you two. I can see it even with my eyes closed."

"There's obviously something going on," Merida replied with a shrug, scrunching up her nose in disgust when her eyes fell on a stack of metal cans containing fish balls. "We're sleeping together. I thought you were aware?"

They walked into the candy aisle, where Merida stopped in front of the chocolate section. Anna's stomach rumbled. "I _am _aware," she said, almost walking into Merida due to the abrupt halt, "but I mean there's something _more_. You never said it, but… I think you like my sister. In a romantic way."

Merida remained silent for at least ten seconds, tilting her head to the side to examine the contents of the chocolate section further. "Do I?"

Anna nodded so enthusiastically it hurt, pushing all her chocolatey desires to the background to focus on Merida's answers. "Yeah, of course you do. Do I need to tell you how I know?"

Another short silence. "Go ahead."

"You broke, like, a whole dozen speed limits when you heard Elsa got hurt? Don't think for a second I didn't see how worried you were. And the next day you were kissing her even though that had nothing to do with any friends with benefits kind of stuff, and you just seem... _softer_ when you're around her."

"Are you calling me soft?" 

There was no real bite to the question, but Anna still blinked nervously. "No! I mean… sort of. But that's _not _what I meant. The question is: do you like Elsa or not?"

"Your sister gets cross with me every single time I buy generic brand chocolate," was all Merida said, giving her an impressive neutral look. "Somehow, I feel like you'll do the exact same thing. Got any chocolate recommendations?

_Generic brand _chocolate? The horror! An assault on the taste buds! Anna felt utterly violated and outraged. Did Merida even hear herself speak? Did she realize the graveness of her error, the sweet disgrace she tainted mankind with? With an undignified snort, Anna decided to right the redhead's wrong.

"Take this one, with the oreo filling," Anna said, pointing at a few chocolate bars with pretty purple wrappers, not bothering to hide her obvious disdain. "It's amazing, and, you know, _not _a total atrocity."

Merida reached for the bars Anna had pointed out, grabbed two and turned away, avoiding Anna's gaze. "I'll trust your good taste."

_Damn right._ Anna couldn't help but feel proud of having helped to avert a disaster. Cheap chocolate, ugh. That stuff smelled so artificial it seemed like no one had even tried to put effort into making the food, and it tasted like cardboard and children's tears, and-

Hold on.

"Hey! You didn't answer my question!" She rushed after Merida, who had already ventured towards the next aisle, with lightning speed. How had she let Merida and her sneaky bad taste in chocolate fool her like that? She was on a _mission_, damn it, she couldn't afford to be fobbed off so easily.

"I didn't?" Merida gave her a dark look, and Anna gulped. "Then I'll answer now, though you won't like the answer. I _don't_ like your sister."

Okay.

It wasn't like Anna hadn't been expecting another denial. On the contrary. But this… She wondered if she'd been wrong after all. Merida seemed like the kind of person who spoke her mind, who at least put up a facade of being an open book. If she _did_ like Elsa, wouldn't she have said so at some point? If she'd ever wanted anything serious with Elsa, wouldn't she have gone out of her way to get that a long time ago? The one thing Anna knew for sure about Merida was that she tended to get what she wanted, going to any length and stopping for nothing.

But all the subtle signs of affection… it didn't make sense.

"Wait, what?"

Merida stopped in front of a freezer and pulled out a pizza, taking it along without as much as looking at its toppings. "I made myself pretty clear. I don't like Elsa and that's all there is to it."

This smelled fishy. Anna pulled a face as Merida picked up her pace ever so slightly, and she put in extra effort to keep up. "Then how do you explain everything I mentioned earlier? Because that's evidence of the opposite, you know. I mean, why kiss her if you don't-"

"It was an impulse decision, okay? All of those things were impulse decisions. It doesn't mean I have feelings for her. It doesn't mean _anything_." Merida made for the self-checkout with her assortment of junk food and didn't say much else, though Anna couldn't help but feel she was doing the same thing Elsa had done: lying to her and herself both.

Could she…? It was a risk, and Elsa would scold her for hours if she ever found out, but it was worth a try, wasn't it? She _had_ to see what the result would be, no matter the cost. The end justified the means. If necessary, she could always try to get back into Elsa's good graces by buying her chocolate. Non-generic brand.

"That's a shame," she said while Merida scanned her items, doing her utmost best to radiate casual indifference. "Don't tell her I said so, but I think she _does _like you. I mean, I know I don't know her as well as I want to know her, but this… You can see it in her eyes, you know. It's more than obvious."

She allowed herself a victorious grin when she saw she'd struck a nerve. Merida had been fumbling with her debit card to pay, but now her hand stilled in mid-air, as if Elsa herself had frozen her in palace. It took a while for her to come to her senses and come up with a proper reply, but Anna would have waited for hours if she'd had to.

"Don't be ridiculous." Complete monotone with a pinch of mocking and disbelief. It wasn't what Anna had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. "No one in their right mind… hm, forget it."

"I'm not lying," Anna retorted, continuing her plea while Merida paid, "or joking. All I'm doing is telling you what Elsa implied, so… if there's any chance you _do_ like her and you just don't want to tell me, you can… use this knowledge to your advantage."

"I said I _don't_ like her," Merida hissed, and Anna feared she'd rip up her receipt to let out some of the prickly anger she seemed to be suppressing. "How hard is that for you to understand?"

Anna knew it was the time to back down; judging from her words, Merida had gone from tolerating her presence to very much wishing her gone, and that scorching look in her eyes didn't bode well either. And still, she couldn't bring herself to stop. She'd come so far now, and she couldn't let her chance slip away. If she let go of the whole thing now, Merida would be much more guarded in the future whenever she tried to bring it up, and she'd never come close to an honest answer ever again.

"I'm sorry," she said, speaking so fast Merida wouldn't be able to interrupt her, "but I can't understand, Merida. I just _can't _understand how you have obvious feelings for my sister, and she has obvious feelings for _you_, but no one ever confronts it. And I can't, not for the life of me, understand _why_ you're so adamant on never admitting you like each other, because this thing you have now isn't making _Elsa_ happy, and it's not making _you_ happy either, but still you don't go out of your way to _fix _it!"

Merida mumbled something unintelligible with a signature bored glare and a headshake, and turned away from her yet again, picking up her pace as they left the store.

"And I'm not done yet!" Anna's voice grew louder and more persistent with each word, unable to keep everything in as she tried to coax a reaction out of the murderer, anything at all. "I could _understand_ you if you were just scared to admit your feelings because you weren't sure if they were reciprocated, but now I'm telling you I'm pretty sure Elsa likes you, and _still _you're denying your feelings, and I. Can't. _Understand_ that!"

"_Anna_." She saw Merida tense. Her hands clenched into fists and her eyes sparked with a fury of sorts, though her voice was still a stubborn, unrelenting neutral. "You're wrong."

Every bit of frustration regarding the situation, everything that had ever irked Anna about it, came spilling out of her mouth. It hadn't been her intention to lash out as hard as she'd done, but she was sick and tired of being told she was wrong when she was nothing but _right_. Why could neither Elsa nor Merida see it all the way _she_ saw it? Why couldn't things be easy for once?

"I'm _not_," she spat out, "and you _know_ it, too! Why are you so, so _difficult_ about this? It's like you don't want to be happy. It's like you don't want _Elsa_ to be happy, and that's not fair, Merida, that's not fair at all, because if _anyone _deserves to be happy, it's my sister!"

Another short, tense silence. She figured her words had to sink in, and she would wait for Merida's reply with pleasure, as long as there _was _a reply and she wouldn't be left with yet another unanswered question. Breathing heavily, she locked eyes with the redhead and begged without words for _something_, anything she could work with.

It occurred to her that she'd been making a scene, and the people shoving past her on the street were looking at them. She didn't care. She knew she'd been loud and disruptive, but Merida had to listen, and if this was the only way, Anna would take it.

"Remember when you called me after Elsa got shot?"

She'd expected an outburst of a rage, but the words were surprisingly calm. Holding her breath, Anna nodded, wondering what Merida would say.

"You asked if I could tell you some things about Elsa, and I didn't tell you anything then. If you want me to, I'll tell you now. I'll tell you exactly what I think of your sister, if you're willing to listen without interrupting me. You think you'll manage?"

"I'll listen." Her throat hurt from yelling and her voice sounded raspy and ready to break, but she was still happy she'd let all her frustration out. If Merida would talk, the probable loss of her voice was an easy sacrifice.

The murderer took a deep breath and ran a hand through her curls. "Elsa… I think the first thing you should know about her is that she'd do anything for you. _Anything_, no matter what. And you can't always see that, you know. All of that caring and warmth is buried beneath layers of stress and anxiety and feigned coldness, and then there's the constant worrying, too. Especially about you."

Anna nodded along, listening quietly, soaking Merida's words up as well as she could, and felt a little warm inside. _Elsa would do anything for you. _It was comforting to hear Merida say it, and she chose to believe it was the honest truth.

"And that's _difficult_," Merida continued. "For you. For me. For _her_. Elsa's difficult. But in the end, she's not nearly as difficult as I am."

Now, that was something Anna wouldn't deny. She liked Merida Dunbroch well enough, but the woman was a definite handful. A part of her wanted to make a snarky comment, but she'd promised not to interrupt, and there was something so vulnerable and breakable tucked away in Merida's words she wouldn't dare try to shatter them.

"I won't bore you with my life story, but there _are _some things you do or should know about me." A small smile tugged at Merida's lips, but there was no joy in it at all. "I kill people for a living. I could kill you or anyone else on this street in a hundred different ways, without batting an eyelash. I've got too much of a temper and I'm too direct for my own good, and I'm so fucking restless and impulsive it's self-destructive, and destructive in general, too."

She wasn't _wrong_, but still Anna felt the redhead didn't give herself enough credit. The redhead wasn't a saint, far from one, but she'd been friendly towards her for the most part and the affection she'd showed Elsa on good days had been genuine. Anna opened her mouth to comment on it, but bit her tongue upon remembering Merida had asked her not to speak.

"Elsa's… different. Better. She's beautiful and brilliant and pretty much perfect, even though she doesn't see it and shuts you down whenever you try to tell her. And _of course_ I want her to be happy, because you're right, and she _does_ deserve it."

_So you do like her, you idiot. _The revelation was enough to make Anna do a mental victory dance, and this time, she couldn't keep quiet: "Then why don't you-"

Merida held up her one free hand, and she fell silent again.

"The thing is," the redhead continued, "she deserves someone better. She doesn't realise it, but she _does_. She could get anyone she wants if she tried, I'm sure of it, and she should do so. Because I can't be the person she'd need me to be. I can't make her happy. The only reason I haven't gotten rid of that damned agreement yet is selfishness on my part. And I know it can't be like this forever, but… I'd like to hold on to her for as it lasts."

No. No. _No_. Maybe Elsa _could_ get someone better, but Anna knew her sister wouldn't want that. Not right now, at least. Even if a relationship with Merida didn't last, they could at least try, couldn't they? If things stayed the way they were now, the two of them would only grow more miserable. There were so many things Anna wanted to say, but she fumbled with her words and couldn't find any to serve a coherent reply. What could she say after a revelation like that, anyway?

She decided to stick with an apology. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, a bit sheepish, "for yelling at you."

Merida shrugged. "'S okay. I've been yelled at for less."

There was something so unusual about the way she behaved, Anna wondered if she'd broken the murderer. Every easy smile had faded, along with every harsh glare and all the casual indifference. The person in front of her seemed so damaged and _resigned_, and it didn't suit Merida Dunbroch. It didn't suit her at all.

"You know there's nothing okay about that, right?" Anna said, softly, to make sure her words wouldn't come across as accusing. "Even if you can't make Elsa as happy as you want to, it would still be better than what's going on now."

Merida sighed, shook her head and handed Anna one of the two chocolate bars she'd been holding on to. "You say Elsa likes me. _If _that's true for some reason… it's better if she doesn't. Do you know enough now?"

Anna nodded.

"Then go home. Your sister's bound to get worried if you're gone for too long. Wouldn't want that to happen." Merida turned away from her, sporting a pathetic attempt at her usual, casual smile. "And, just to be sure… this conversation never took place."

It wasn't fair. It wasn't okay. Why couldn't Elsa and Merida just try? Anna watched the redhead go with a thoughtful expression, brows furrowed as she pondered everything that had been said. There _had_ to be a way to make them see sense, right? While Anna didn't want to come up with elaborate schemes, she still had to do _something_. Her sister and Merida needed a nudge in the right direction. Couldn't she provide that?

A little plan began to form in her mind, and her reluctant smile grew.

"Merida! Wait!"

The murderer turned around with an irritated 'what now?' expression, and Anna held her breath, waiting for what she would say.

"Would you stop looking at me like you think I'm going to shoot you and tell me what you want?"

Anna's smile grew even wider, though she hadn't thought it possible. "There's this… _idea _I just had," she explained, her excitement strengthening with each passing second. "Something good. Would you be up for meeting me in Slottsparken next monday? At seven in the evening? I could tell you all about it, then."

Judging from the look of conflicted confusion on Merida's face, she was hesitating, unsure of what she was getting herself into. That, or she was simply trying to figure out what Slottsparken meant in English. Neither option would have suprise Anna as she waited, giddy at the thought of what she would set up.

In the end, Merida's curiosity won the battle from her common sense. The redhead shrugged. "'S not like I've got something better to do. Count me in."

"You won't regret it!" Anna yelled after her as she left, but Merida didn't reply anymore. Fair. It seemed like she'd had a pretty rough morning, and Anna couldn't blame her for wanting to get away and be alone for a bit. Hell, if she'd been Merida, she'd have crawled in bed and slept the rest of the day away. In fact, if the murderer had the right priorities, that was exactly what she would do.

With a devilish smirk, Anna turned around too, preparing herself for the walk back home. She wrung her hands together in anticipation, feeling full of energy now that she'd come up with a plan that could succeed if she was lucky. 

_Soon, you lesbian disasters. Very, very soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My girls never do catch a break.
> 
> Writing this chapter was a damned rollercoaster. I loved it.
> 
> Any thoughts you want to share? Feel free to let me know!
> 
> Stay healthy!


	14. Chapter 13: One night for destiny, then make it two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's mostly lesbian idiots pining and totally being in love but they don't know it yet. Served with a healthy dose of fluff and angst, all for your convenience!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Please read this!
> 
> So this chapter isn't a bonus chapter, but it is a flashback chapter, so take note of the fact it takes place about a year before chapter 1. 
> 
> The reason for me writing this one is because I never did specify how exactly Merelsa ended up in their situation, but it all got quite elaborate and too long to simply hint at it, so I think it would only be fair to put it in a separate (lengthy, whoops) chapter. This also gives me some more time to think about some details regarding plot direction, which means future chapter will be of a better quality! I hope😅
> 
> As for now, please enjoy 13K words of gay shit. Y'all deserve it, my dudes.

According to Elsa, the barn's owner really should've put some effort into cleaning. The musty smell in the building was unpleasant. The tiny, muddy footprints on the floor indicated the presence of rats, pattering around in search of anything edible. And to top it all off, the whole place was chock-full of junk: rusty tools, old gardening equipment, firewood, and cardboard boxes, either filled or empty, littered the floor, piling up high in a display of complete chaos.

She could think of better places to spend her friday night.

Not that she'd known in advance where exactly she'd end up. She recalled listening to Merida talk over the phone, that damned accent entrancing her once again, but few details had stuck with her. It wasn't like Merida had been generous when it came to spilling them, anyway; Elsa had yet to see a day on which her colleague would be anything but concise. 

Of course, she'd realised what she was getting into. The matter was work-related, that much had been clear from the start. Merida had a nose for finding her when she wanted company on a job. Elsa had vague memories of being persuaded to come along with sweet-voiced pleas, a few chocolatey bribes, and a mischievous promise on her friend's part to not be a total pain in the ass. Not much of one, at least.

Ha. As if Elsa could ever bring herself to say no to Merida Dunbroch.

Okay, that wasn't entirely true. She said no often enough. She'd lost count of the amount of flirty advances she'd shut down, and sometimes Merida's plans of action when it came to assignments were so ludicrous and stupid that the mere _idea _of agreeing to them made Elsa sick to her stomach. And of course, if Merida were to ask her if she was allowed to, well, punch her in the face or anything like it, Elsa would say no for sure.

All of that didn't mean she didn't have a weak spot for the redhead, though. There was something about her that made Elsa reluctant to disappoint her by behaving coldly, or to push her away like she tended to do when she came across anyone she took a liking to. It was a habit she couldn't seem to shake, even though it could be said her control of her magic was little less than excellent these days. The scene of the incident that led to her running away from home over a decade ago still played in her mind whenever she got close to anyone, gnawing at her for all eternity, and that didn't work wonders for her social skills.

But Merida… Merida didn't _let_ herself be pushed away, no matter how much force Elsa had tried to use. Merida could be told to fuck off time and time again, be it in an explicit or implicit way, and she would look you in the eye and ask if you were out of your mind to even ask.

Elsa liked to pretend she wanted Merida to fuck off. She liked to pretend she hated it whenever her colleague complimented her on whatever perfume she was wearing, or whenever she offered to share lunch with her, or whenever she got a little too touchy-feely out of sheer habit. But in reality, Elsa had to admit she'd grown fond of the woman and all her quirks (The hot accent, contrary to popular belief, didn't have _anything_ to do with it).

So when she'd spotted Merida's car in the parking lot of her apartment building after she'd agreed to tag along, she'd actually been quite content with the situation. There were far worse people she could think of to spend time with, and it was _work_, which meant Merida would give her a share of the money she'd be paid for a job well done, whether Elsa was willing to accept it or not. And besides, she hadn't seen the redhead in a while because the latter had been working an assignment in Italy for a while, and though Elsa wouldn't ever voice the thought, not even for chocolatey bribes, there was a chance she'd missed Merida Dunbroch's presence in her life.

She'd blamed it on the time spent apart, but Merida had looked particularly amazing that evening. The murderer had been munching on an apple when Elsa approached her (God, was she ever _not_ eating?), and her skin had been a little sunburnt due to the Italian sun, and it was possible the light freckles on her face had multiplied (not that Elsa had ever taken the time to _count _them), and her hair was a usual curly mess, but its red colour contrasted with the black of her car in a way that was honest-to-god enchanting. And when she gave Elsa a giant smile, there was something about it that felt so _okay_ it should've been illegal.

The target, a corrupt cop, lived alone on a property outside of town, Merida told her as they got what should've been a twenty-minute drive done in twelve, courtesy of the redhead's reckless driving. The bitch would come home from a vacation that night, and while Merida had been aware of that much, there was no saying at what exact time the target would come home. That, inconvenient as it was, meant travelling all the way to the remote area in which the woman resided and waiting for her to show up to meet her demise. And _that_, Elsa knew, was why _she _had been invited to accompany her colleague on a murder-involving field trip.

Initially, they'd waited outside, hidden away in the woodland next to the property. It had been uncomfortable, as usual, and Merida had complained about having forgotten to bring any snacks, also as usual, and despite not having seen the redhead for quite some time, it still baffled Elsa how _easy_ and natural it felt to talk to her, and on a sidenote, how stunning she looked in the light of a sunset was an added bonus to the whole experience.

Then the rain had started.

All snack complaints left behind in more comfortable times, Merida had dragged her along to the old barn next to the target's house within fifteen seconds. The building, painted in the same shade of red as Merida's hair, stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the dark green of the pine trees around them and the dull brownish colour of the dried grass crunching beneath their feet. Elsa had crouched down to see better, picked the lock on the dirty wooden door, and they'd taken shelter there, still waiting for Merida's target to come stumbling home.

That had been ten minutes ago. Elsa wasn't sure how much longer they still had to wait. And apparently, her partner wasn't sure either.

"Merida… _what _are you doing?"

If Merida had taken note of the exasperation in her tone at all, she did a good job at not batting an eyelash, unimpressed as always. Her face was slowly flushing red, but to Elsa's surprise, her muscles hadn't given out yet. Not that she'd been staring at those or anything.

"Do I have to explain to you what a handstand is?" Merida's slight frown looked quite strange upside down. "Because you're smart. I'm sure you know."

Elsa took a second to roll her eyes at that. "I _do_, but what I don't know is why you're doing one."

In reality, she had a decent idea of _why_. She hadn't kept track of the time, but judging from Merida's annoyed grumbling and frequent glares out of the murky windows of the barn, they'd been waiting for the target to arrive for quite a while. Patience had never been Merida's strong suit, something Elsa had figured out fast after meeting her years ago; waiting in line at Domino's with her had been a _challenge_ and a goddamned experience.

All in all, Merida Dunbroch grew bored and stir-crazy faster than a prisoner in solitary confinement. Ten minutes of sitting tight and twiddling thumbs, and she'd already be pacing, muttering curses and bouncing off the walls in general. It was why she'd asked Elsa to come with her that evening; having company would prevent her from being driven to the brink of complete insanity while the target put her patience to a difficult test.

Elsa wouldn't complain about it. She liked spending time with Merida, though she'd never admit it even at gunpoint, and keeping her friend in check was of utmost importance. After all, a bored Merida was an unpredictable Merida, and an unpredictable Merida was prone to reckless impulse decisions. The thought of the redhead managing to injure herself in a boredom-fuelled rampage of self-destruction was a concerning one, and if Elsa's presence kept her somewhat entertained and _safe_, she'd sacrifice her free time with pleasure.

Shrugging proved to be hard while doing impromptu gymnastics, but Merida did it anyway. "Girl's gotta do _something_, right?"

Even then, a handstand seemed like an… _original_ activity to kill time with. Not that Elsa minded _that _much. Merida's upside down predicament had resulted in gravity having its way with her T-shirt, exposing a tiny bit of flawless skin. It was all rather distracting, but that didn't mean it wasn't an improvement of Elsa's night.

"Yeah, but… a _handstand_?"

"I mean, s'pose I could do cartwheels too, but I haven't tried that since I was seven and fell on my face." Merida kicked herself away from the wall and _somehow _managed to knee herself in the stomach while landing. "Fuck, that hurt."

"The cartwheels, or what you did just now?"

"Both."

Elsa watched as Merida began to pace around, shooting the occasional glance out of the window. Jesus, how restless could a person be? Elsa got tired just looking at her.

"Can you… sit down for a minute? I'm _this _close to taping you to a wall."

In hindsight, she should've known Merida would have been able to turn the innocent statement into an insinuation within seconds. Elsa told herself she had to make flirting more difficult for her colleague, because this was getting ridiculous. At least Merida came to a halt, putting an end to her hasty pacing, and her lips curled into a suggestive smile.

"Tape me to a wall?" The murderer looked around, taking in the absolute mess surrounding her. "Assuming you'd find a spot empty enough to do that in, it could work. And what would you do with me then?"

Elsa sighed and leaned back, shifting to a more comfortable position on the pile of firewood she'd sat down on. It was quite dark in the barn, and she hoped Merida didn't spot the light blush creeping up her cheeks. "It's not like I'd get far trying to tape you in place. I don't believe you wouldn't fight back."

"On the contrary." Goddamn it, could she stop grinning so much? Elsa swore it only made her friend more irresistible every time she did it, and thirsting over cute Scottish idiots was _not_ what she was supposed to be doing. "I'd let you do anything to me and I wouldn't protest. You're so beautiful I'd be too speechless to even try."

_Fucking hell._

Under different circumstances, it could've been ideal. Okay, Merida was attractive. _Really_ attractive. There was no way Elsa could pretend she wasn't at least a little interested in her. And Merida, well… Merida had been _very _interested in her ever since they'd met three years back, and she hadn't bothered to hide it either. She'd always seemed to have a flirty comment ready to use, or a suggestive look to wear, or there'd be a subtle touch almost feeling like second nature. It wouldn't be difficult at all to start something with her, given the mutual attraction.

But Elsa knew Merida. If she got involved with her in any way, she knew what it meant. One night, nothing else. Merida didn't _do_ commitment, or romance, or even crushes. And while Elsa herself wasn't exactly in for those last two either, she wasn't the type for one-night stands, unlike her friend, who she was sure had lost count of them somewhere along the way.

And that was _Merida's_ business, of course. Elsa knew better than to judge people for actions that didn't harm her or others in any way. But while spending a night with Merida would most likely be rather enjoyable, and while it was tempting to let all reservation and decency go to hell, there was something about it that didn't sit well with her. 

Agreeing to one night went against everything she'd ever been taught about romance (which was little), and it wasn't… _conventional_, per se. She'd always tried so hard to be anything resembling normal, even if the story of her life proved the contrary, and she'd done her best to never be anything but the perfect girl the world wanted her to be. Someone everyone she cared about, whether she was still in contact with them or not, could be proud of. A one-night stand with a hot Scottish colleague, a colleague who was about to _murder_ a person, for Christ's sake, was not something a perfect girl should even have considered.

With that philosophy in the back of her mind, Elsa raised an eyebrow, sending Merida the most defiant look she could manage. "You're saying that because you want to sleep with me."

Merida sat down on a pile of firewood near her, chuckling at those words. "Oh, you got me," she said with a slight, dangerously mischievous smile. "I won't deny it. But even if that's a big part of my reason for saying it, you _do_ know I wouldn't tell you lies."

A great many things could be said about Merida Dunbroch, but Elsa couldn't deny the truth in that statement. The redhead tended to be honest to the point of it being downright shameless. No matter how hard Elsa tried, she couldn't find a proper reply, neither in English nor Norwegian. 

Instead, she chose to keep her mouth shut and her eyes trained on Merida, who hunched forward to mess with her shoelaces: untying, tying again, untying, tying again. A neverending obsessive movement, yet another way to quench the constant boredom.

Elsa wasn't sure how long she sat there, watching in silence as Merida fidgeted around with her shoes for what seemed like ages, sporting a look of dire concentration. That, too, was restless enough to get on her nerves, but Elsa supposed she'd rather see the redhead figure out the many different ways to tie knots than see her playing impulsive Russian roulette. 

She startled out of those thoughts, however, when she heard the noise of a car pulling up in the driveway over the sound of pouring rain. She sprang up and sped to the window, almost finding herself blinded when headlights cut into her vision. Even though she had to strain to see it, the woman who stepped out of the vehicle with a small bag of candy in her hands couldn't be anything but the target.

"Merida," she said, ignoring the frost creeping up the windowsill she'd been leaning on. "Your target's here."

Her friend made an exasperated noise. "Kinda busy right now, actually. You see, these shoelaces don't untie themselves-" 

Oh, she _had_ to be joking. Elsa turned to her with plain fury in her eyes, resembling something of a feral dog. "_Merida_. The murder."

There was a theatrical sigh, and Merida looked up at the ceiling like she was wishing for a higher power to smite the target, leaving her without the need to put in any effort. However, she did stand up, quicker than her attitude would have led Elsa to believe, her hand reaching for her weapon on instinct as if she'd used it all her life.

"Aye, the murder. Don't worry about it." Her words were playful, her smile wide and so full of mischief Elsa was convinced Merida Dunbroch would go to Hell not once but five times. At _least_. "Gimme a second, m'lady. Can do this with my bloody eyes closed."

It wasn't like Elsa had never accompanied Merida on a job before, but still she wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to how _fast _everything could go all of a sudden. When she'd been waiting for hours, she tended to expect the killing to take the same amount of time, or even longer, for no reason whatsoever. In reality, it was over before she could even blink.

Within what couldn't have been more than fifteen seconds, Merida had the barn's door thrown open, and a gunshot broke the silence. Elsa snuck a glance at her face, and… Dear god, she _did_ have her eyes closed. Was she out of her mind? Though Elsa knew she shouldn't have been going over at least ten different disaster scenarios in her head, she couldn't shake the feeling the trickshot could leave a bitter aftertaste.

But the corrupt policewoman collided with the ground, the bullet having found its way through her body. There was no screaming, or crying, or cursing. Nothing but a pained whimper, and a confused expression on a face that hadn't been prepared for death.

"There. We're done here." Merida stepped outside, unbothered by the light drizzle still falling from the sky. "You think this place is remote enough to just leave her as food for the wolves? I mean, I guess I could dispose of the corpse, but last time I couldn't get the stench of blood out of my jeans for weeks…"

The redhead kept talking, but little of what she said still registered in Elsa's brain. _How _could Merida be so casual about this? So indifferent, so relaxed? Even if it was nothing but a facade, and Elsa suspected it was to an extent, she still did a remarkable job when it came to murder, something that wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded.

The answer, she figured as they walked towards the dead woman on the ground, was that Merida Dunbroch was a natural. Elsa inspected the bullet wound in the back of the corpse's head from a safe distance, repulsed by the strong smell of blood and desiring to keep the contents of her stomach inside her body. The shot hadn't been perfect, messy, even, and the kill wasn't as clean as she knew Merida was capable of. But still, the redhead hadn't _missed_. Not even with her eyes closed.

"Wolves it is," Merida answered her own question, wrinkling her nose in disgust while closing the distance between herself and her victim. She reached for the bag of candy the woman had been holding, careful not to get any blood on her hands, and examined the sweets. "Toffee. Clean. Well, not like she's gonna _eat_ it, so…"

Next time, Elsa thought to herself, she really did have to bring snacks. How Merida still had an appetite after commiting a murder was beyond her, and to say the redhead didn't have her priorities straight was a textbook definition of an understatement. Elsa shook her head, wiped the rime staining her fingers off, and made up her mind on what to say.

"You shouldn't shoot with your eyes closed."

Merida had already turned around, making for her car parked a couple hundred meters back, hidden in the shadows of large trees. "Let's go. Scent's getting on my nerves- Wait, what did you say?"

Speeding up to catch up with her colleague, Elsa came to walk next to her. "I said you shouldn't shoot with your fucking eyes closed."

"I shouldn't?" The toffee smelled so sweet it was sickening. Merida put a piece of candy in her mouth. "This is good stuff, damn."

"I don't care if it's good stuff. It's not relevant to this conversation at all," Elsa told her. The frost she'd fought so hard to keep at bay began to crawl over her skin again. "Listen. I know you're good, okay? You've got a talent for murder, and it's messed up, but to each her own, I guess, but, it's just.. there's no need to be a show-off about it, alright?"

Merida shrugged and kept eating, but she gripped the little bag of candy a bit tighter. "I don't show off. Hm, maybe for you at times, but not _now_."

"It doesn't matter to me _why_ you pulled that stunt." Elsa did her best to sound as stern as possible. "But you're taking a huge risk with that trick. I mean, I know you're skilled enough to ensure a good outcome, I saw it moments ago, but one day your luck's going to run out and it'll be your own blood you won't be able to wash out of your clothes, or your own body that's left out there for the wolves. Taking risks like these could _kill_ you, Merida."

That was what had irked her the most, wasn't it? While Elsa couldn't tell if the target had gotten what she deserved, and while the morality of it all was questionable at best, she'd learnt long ago not to think much of it anymore. Her line of work, _Merida's_ line of work, had been ambiguous in the moral aspect from the start, and the golden rule was to get an assignment done without asking questions or complaining. It was something she'd signed up for, knowing the sacrifices she'd have to make. It was another piece of her humanity left behind to rot, discarded like it meant nothing.

But she'd known all of that for such a long time that she'd become desensitized to the morally ambiguous aspect. She'd been trained well. The lines between wrong and right had been blurred for Merida, for her, for ages. They could work for law enforcement one day, for the mob the next, and in the end, it didn't matter. The money it earned them rustled the same, looked the same. The Company was the neutral force, balancing between right and wrong, never quite leaning to one side for long. No, the murder that had taken place moments ago wasn't her concern.

Merida… Merida was her concern. They'd worked together for three years, gotten along for three years in spite of the occasional frustration and exasperated eye-rolling, and even though Elsa had denied it quite often, they were friends. Okay, maybe the redhead was an idiot, but she was _Elsa's _idiot, and seeing her putting herself in more danger than necessary was anxiety-inducing in so many ways Elsa wouldn't even bother to count.

They reached the car. Merida, having eaten what little toffee had been left, shoved the empty bag in her pocket and leaned against her car with crossed arms. "The job in itself is putting my life on the line," she stated. 

Her words weren't hostile, but the way she spoke showed a conviction, unwavering, and Elsa knew the murderer was far too stubborn to let go of whatever philosophy she was about to present.

"So even if I _didn't _take any risks," she continued, fiery gaze fixed on Elsa, "I'd still be in danger and close to death. What the hell does it matter then, anyway?"

"It matters to _me_. I don't need you getting killed on a job anytime soon."

Merida didn't falter, not even for a second. "Shit, I could die of a random heart attack tomorrow, or a car could hit me next week and I'd be gone all the same. Easy as that. We're all gonna die, Arens, and it's not like we have much of a say in when that's going to be. And if I gotta go anyway, I might as well take a risk or two. At least then I'll show up in Hell knowing I had some fun."

The most disturbing thing was that she had a _point_. The woman Merida had shot, Elsa knew, hadn't taken any risk. All she'd done was return home from a vacation, unaware death would wait on her doorstep. If Merida hadn't accepted the assignment asking for her demise, the lady could have lived for another ten years, or twenty, or thirty. But if she'd had an aneurysm a few months into the future, she would have ended up dead anyway. So what _did_ the occasional risk matter if the outcome remained the same? It could speed up a process already in motion, but if that was everything…

And still, the idea of Merida dying anytime soon didn't sit well with her. It was exactly as the killer had said: death could show its ugly face all day, every day. And Merida could know, because she, in a way, controlled who lived and who didn't. Merida Dunbroch played God while she still could, until she too would succumb to what she gave her victims and another would take her place. And if you thought of it that way, Elsa figured, life could be short.

Way too short.

_At least then I'll show up in Hell knowing I had some fun._

She looked Merida in the eyes, tried to see through her, make sense of whatever crazy thoughts were running wild in that restless brain of hers. She studied the face she knew so well, sunburnt and full of light freckles, and watched that damned easy smile slipping into her friend's features, almost challenging. And maybe it was because the colour red was so beautiful when contrasting with black, or maybe because life was short, because it could all be over within days, but Elsa wondered what it would be like to act on impulse, take the risk. It wouldn't kill her to try.

"So, hey, you gonna lecture me or what? Knowing you, you're going to hit me with the facts and tell me I'm wrong, so don't keep me waiting-"

Elsa never did learn what Merida had had to say then, if it had been important at all. She didn't think it was. All that still mattered was the feeling of Merida's lips on hers, and that look of pleasant surprise in her eyes before they slipped shut, and the fact that she tasted an awful lot like toffee, though Elsa wouldn't dare complain about a passionate kiss that was so overdue.

Alright, maybe Merida was more skilled at kissing than she was. Far more. Elsa had kissed a girl before, years ago, but that relationship hadn't worked out, though she'd would always blame herself for that, not Honeymaren. Nevertheless, it was so _easy _to kiss Merida. It wasn't a big deal that she was a little out of practice, because the redhead didn't care about perfection, not then and not ever. Looking back, that kiss had been a total, heated mess.

And still it had felt _stupidly_ right.

When oxygen became a bit of a problem and she had to pull away, Elsa couldn't stop herself from thinking about how strange the night had been. She'd gone along with Merida for work-related reasons, and now she had the redhead pinned to her car and her hands stuck in a mess of curls, Merida holding her in place with a strong arm around her waist.

"Not bad," Merida said, a smug, victorious smirk plastered on her face, and something naughty dancing in her eyes. "Not bad at all."

Who even cared about perfection? Elsa knew she did, but in that moment, perfection could go fuck itself. Who did she need to be perfect for, anyway? The parents she hadn't spoken to for over a decade? The precious little sister she'd never see again? Hiccup, who wouldn't even bother to judge if she asked him to?

_Who gives a damn? It's just one night._

Emboldened by the kiss and Merida's pleased look of desire, Elsa ran a cold finger along the murderer's jaw. "So here's how it's going to go," she said slowly, surprised at how seductive her voice sounded. "You're going to drive me home as was the plan, and when we get there, I'll ask you inside for a cup of coffee, and you'd be a fool not to accept the invitation. And then, if you're lucky, I could decide I'll give you a tour of my bedroom. What do you think?"

Merida shivered beneath her cool touch, and Elsa would be a liar if she said that wasn't at least a little satisfying. But the mischief in the redhead's eyes remained, and that smug smirk she wore grew wider with each passing second.

"I think I'll be breaking more speed limits than ever before."

~~~

When Elsa woke up in the morning, early as usual, she thought it was because she was hungry. It was a saturday, and now that she was awake, her body begged her to get moving already instead of staying in bed lazing around. But for once, she ignored that little voice in her head and didn't make to go downstairs as fast as possible.

She wasn't sure why her brain opposed to getting the regular morning routine down, but she suspected it had something to do with the previous night's events. Not that she had any regrets; in fact, she wondered why she hadn't indulged in Merida's advances sooner. 

While the memory of the details had faded for the most part after she fell asleep, lost in the passion somewhere along the way, she did remember everything important. She remembered how Merida's touch had been able to take her breath away, and words tinged with awe mumbled in what she assumed to be Scottish Gaelic. She remembered the longing look in her friend's eyes shining a bright blue in the dark of her bedroom, and her alluring outdoorsy scent. And, she thought, even if it was sadly one night and nothing more, it had been a night to remember for sure.

Merida, unlike her, wasn't so fond of getting up early. It wasn't like Elsa had suspected otherwise; with the amount of restless energy the redhead possessed, she had to recharge _sometime_. Still, it would also have made sense for her to wake up early for the sole reason that waking up meant breakfast.

In fact, Elsa thought upon turning to face the sleeping woman next to her, she kind of liked having woken up before Merida had done. It gave her the opportunity to admire the view. And what a view it was, really. When sleeping, Merida didn't even look close to the energetic, trained killer Elsa knew she was. She snored a little, and she'd snuggled closer to Elsa's pillow, and her furrowed brows made her look nothing short of adorable. Elsa had to use all her willpower not to run her fingers through the wild mess of red curls sprawled all around her, wanting to feel their softness once again.

An annoying noise in the distance disturbed her thoughts, and she tore her eyes away from Merida's sleeping figure. She bit her lip, trying in vain to remember if she'd had some kind of appointment that morning. That noise… it sounded an awful lot like knocking, growing louder and more persistent the longer she sat and listened. Was someone trying to destroy the door to her apartment with their bare hands?

She prayed the visitor would leave already, but she also didn't think she could take another second of the knocking invading her so far eventful morning. Jumping out of bed, she surveyed her bedroom, searching for the clothes she'd discarded the previous night (if the visitor had wanted her to show up in clean, non-sweaty attire and with nicely brushed teeth, they would have had to show up later that day).

At a quick pace, she found most of what she needed and slipped back into the fabric: Undergarments, jeans, sweater…

Sweater?

Where the hell was that thing?

Elsa considered opening up her wardrobe to find a new one, but the knocking on her door, frustrating and headache-inducing, reached a glorious crescendo. A backward glance in the direction of her bed taught her that Merida stirred in her sleep, fingers digging into the pillow and muttering something unintelligible. It made her feel guilty for not answering the door sooner, and she told herself she wouldn't waste any more time. She grabbed the first article of upper body clothing she could find, Merida's checkered green flannels, and hoped her friend wouldn't mind her borrowing them as she sped towards her door.

Could it be Hiccup? She didn't recall agreeing to meet up with him that morning, neither for a friendly chat or anything work-related. Besides, she hadn't given him a key to the building, and while Hiccup Haddock as director of the Company's Oslo branch didn't _need _a key to enter and could break in with ease, she knew he'd rather show up at her intercom instead of going through all that trouble to see her. A neighbour, then? But which one of them would even want to talk to her at that hour? The elderly French lady who always took care of her cat when she was gone? Impossible. Elsa hadn't planned any international assignments yet.

When she opened the door just enough to see _Weselton_, of all people, staring at her with contempt in his eyes, she was… Surprised. Since when did the old man come to see her out of his own free will? Elsa had lived next to him for over a year, and while she couldn't say she was fond of her neighbour in any way, she'd always thought the extent of _his_ dislike towards _her _bordered on the downright ridiculous. Whenever she even greeted him while passing him by these days, all she got was a look as if she hadn't taken a shower in over a year, and the tiny man would walk away with an exasperated huff and a condescending snort.

"Miss Arens," he said, and Elsa could taste the venom in his words, feel how much it seemed to physically pain him to address her with any kind of respectful term. "I want a word with you about your cat."

Marshmallow? He'd been lazing on her couch when she saw him before making it to the door, whining because he was used to getting breakfast straight away when she came down the stairs. As far as Elsa knew, the little guy hadn't moved from his spot ever since she and Merida stumbled into her apartment the previous night (though, to be fair, she'd been more occupied with undressing her colleague than with her unimpressed pet). What could Weselton even complain about when it came to Marshmallow?

"My cat?" She couldn't even keep the confusion out of her words if she tried. "What about him?"

Weselton squinted at her in that scrutinizing, vicious way that made Elsa think he would have fed her to pigs if he'd been given the chance. "I have reasons to believe he snuck into my home and ate my shoe."

He said it with such indignation that Elsa found it hard not to burst out laughing at how ridiculous that statement was. It almost hurt to keep her voice calm, but still she gave her neighbour a neutral look, as to give him the idea she was taking him seriously.

"I'm sorry, Mr Weselton," she said, ready to shut the door closed and disappear as fast as she could, "but Marshmallow couldn't even break out of my apartment and into yours if he was an escape artist, and he also doesn't eat _shoes._"

Weselton grew a deep shade of red. "Then what beast would you say is responsible for my shoe being chewed up?"

Rolling her eyes wasn't wise, but Elsa did it anyway. She begged her neighbour wouldn't notice. "Oh, I don't know. Your _own _cat?"

"She would _never_."

It would take way too much time to convince the old man his cat was anything but the sweet angel he made her out to be. Elsa wanted to be rid of his glares and grating voice as soon as possible and took to a less honourable escape tactic: pawning Weselton off on someone else.

"Look, I'm sorry about your shoe…"

She wasn't.

"…But my cat doesn't even _move_ unless I have something to eat for him, so it must've been some other… footwear-devouring demon that got into your place. Would it hurt to speak to anyone else on this floor? We're not the only people owning cats here, _sir._ Have a nice morning."

Weselton blinked, and Elsa knew she had him fixed. The trick was speaking and thinking fast so he wouldn't be able to get a word in, and then metaphorically shoving him away. In a pool of mud, if possible, but she supposed the joyful day on which she could do that would not come anytime soon.

She was about to throw the door shut and end their conversation with a bang, when she saw Weselton hold up his hand to stop her. "Wait," he said with a huff, "one more thing."

Would it be okay for her to order Marshmallow to eat the man's other shoe? It was a tempting thought. It required all of Elsa's strength not to give in to the desire. "What is it?"

Her neighbour jabbed a finger at her. Or, to be more specific, at the soft green flannels she'd chosen to wear as a last resort. He spoke slowly, his usual scrutiny slipping into his features again: "The thug stayed the night, and that would be _your_ business. But teach her some manners, or I'll call the police on her."

_I'll be sure to applaud her next time she tells you to go fuck yourself. Sir._

"Of course. _Goodbye_, Mr. Weselton."

It was a relief to finally be able to shut the door in his face, blocking him from sight. Elsa gritted her teeth and shook her head, trying to get rid of the immense frustration the old man had left her with. They'd lived next to each other for over a _year_. Hadn't it ever occurred to him he'd do better to keep his mouth shut and leave people alone? Or was having an insufferable elderly man for a neighbour in the first home you own some messed up rite of passage? If it was, Elsa would have liked an audience with the fucker who came up with it.

She made her way back to her living room, taking a few deep breaths to relax. She realized the flannels she was wearing smelled like Merida, and if she was honest, the scent had a rather calming effect on her. The fabric was soft and it felt warm and comfy on her skin, and she could see why it was Merida's favourite.

Marshmallow, stretching in his spot on the couch, gave her a loud whine, begging for breakfast.

"Fine, _fine,_" she muttered, "I'll get you something, just-"

She stood paralysed when she heard a familiar Scottish accent colouring lazy, amused words. "Was wondering where those flannels went."

Jesus Christ, Merida absolutely did _not_ need to look hot in the morning, but she didn't seem to give a damn about that. Whether she was sporting a bedhead or not was unclear to Elsa, seeing as her hair didn't look any different than usual, but she'd managed to find all of her clothes (or at least, Elsa thought, the ones that hadn't been borrowed). And okay, her outfit was simple, jeans and a black shirt with a demonic bear on it that seemed to be her friend's favourite along with the flannels, but her sharp grin and the fiery blue of the Wisp tattoo on her shoulder completed the whole look.

"Couldn't find a sweater," Elsa mumbled, looking away with a slight blush. "Didn't want to wake you up."

She could have been imagining it, but Merida seemed to be blushing too as she descended down the stairs, hands in her pockets, moving with the same casual air of indifference as usual. "'S not okay," she mumbled, coming to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, close enough to Elsa to kiss her if she'd wanted to. For a second, Elsa found herself hoping she'd do just that. "Stupid thing looks way better on you than on me. That's what I call unfair."

Elsa shrugged and came to the sudden realisation she'd never bothered to button the flannels up. She looked at Merida, who seemed a little enthralled, and tilted the redhead's chin up with a finger, a slight smirk on her face. "My eyes are up here, Mer."

Oh, she was definitely blushing, alright. Merida didn't have a smooth reply for once, didn't say a word at all and stayed unmoving. There was something conflicted in her eyes while she studied Elsa's face, as if she contemplated to go back upstairs and drag her along. If she'd done that, Elsa didn't think she'd have any complaints. Not that she'd ever tell Merida she'd had that thought.

Just before she allowed herself to be pleased about pretty much rendering a girl catatonic, Merida snapped out of her temporary trance and held out something blue. "Found it beneath your desk. I dunno if you wanted to get a clean one later, but let's trade. Your sweater for you, my flannels for me."

A reasonable request, though Elsa was almost disappointed she had to part with the softness of Merida's flannels. She accepted her sweater, dusted it off. "Just remember it's rude to stare."

"You didn't say so last night," came the grumbled reply, but Merida did seem to be happy she'd gotten her flannels back again, what with the way her eyes lit up. "Anyway, it's been a pleasure, but I'm going. Wouldn't want to hold you up any longer."

Elsa frowned as she put her sweater on again, wondering if its comfiness levels were as high as those of Merida's flannels. "You're not staying for breakfast?"

_Jesus, don't sound so disappointed._

The look of surprised confusion on Merida's face wasn't what she'd expected. The redhead scratched the back of her neck as the words sank in. "Do you… _want _me to?"

Would she even have asked if that wasn't the case? Of course not. Truth be told, Elsa didn't want to see Merida go yet. She was good company, and her staying felt so _right_. 

"Sure. I mean… I'd feel bad if I just kicked you out without even offering you something to eat. It's a saturday, so I'm making pancakes, but if you want anything else I'm sure we can compromise…" her voice trailed off when she realized Merida was awfully quiet.

Shit, had she crossed a boundary there? Had she interpreted the situation wrong? Ugh, couldn't someone have written an instruction manual on one-night stands? Now she had to figure out for herself if offering breakfast was the most ridiculous thing she could've done.

Her heart leapt when she saw the tiny beginning of a smile tugging at Merida's lips. "In that case, I'll stay. And pancakes are just fine."

It sounded genuine. She _meant _it. Elsa couldn't figure out why that was so important, but she decided it didn't matter. At least Merida would stay. She returned the redhead's smile, unable to keep it off her face. "Great. So if you could help me out with them, we'll have breakfast done in a few minutes. Sounds good?"

"Oh, better than good." Merida followed her into the kitchen, almost tripping over Marshmallow, who began circling around her. He meowed loudly, staring up at his owner's visitor with wide, expectant eyes.

"Uh… Elsa?"

Elsa shot the cat an amused look, reaching down to pick her pet up with some difficulty and scratch his chin. "Don't worry. We haven't forgotten about you."

Weselton gone, cat in her arms, the prospect of delicious chocolate pancakes, and Merida to keep her company. Elsa didn't think her morning could get any better.

~~

Merida Dunbroch wasn't doing okay.

Not that that was something new. Merida didn't think she'd ever been truly fine in the past eight years or so. But that had been a different kind of not okay. It had been a kind of not okay she could work with. A kind of not okay she could silence, blind. Kill.

_This_ kind of not okay… she couldn't get rid of it. It was a glaring error in the life and identity she'd created for herself. A mistake. If there was some shitty God up there, he'd messed up big time. What the hell had she done to deserve this fucking curse? If she'd been able to get rid of it already, it would've been all good. But she _couldn't _get it out of her mind, and that was the problem.

It was quiet on the shooting range, save for the sound of bullets being fired from her gun. No one else was there but her. She wondered why. She didn't mind the bit of privacy, but still considered it strange. Did no one like shooting shit these days? Or was it that no one had the courage to come near her? She wouldn't have been surprised if the latter was the case. A skilled shooter in a foul mood? 'Intimidating' didn't quite cover it.

She'd lost all track of time after coming to the range. As a professional murderer, it was only natural she had to keep her skills up to date. Or at least, she had to if she wanted to continue being known as one of the best shooters on the fucking continent. But that day, she hadn't come for training of any sort. She'd gone to the range to clear her restless mind, a tactic that tended to work out well.

That day, it wasn't succesful in the slightest.

The mindless shooting, much to her annoyance, seemed to give her even more time to think about the things she wanted to forget about. The _people_ she wanted to forget about. Or actually, if she got technical: the _person_, singular.

Merida came to the conclusion that Elsa Arens was incredibly bad for her.

And it _wasn't _Elsa's fault. It really wasn't. The problem was Merida's, would always be hers, and putting the blame on her colleague wasn't something she'd ever do. Elsa was an amazing person, and Merida would be the last to suggest otherwise. She couldn't explain it, but she didn't think she'd ever met anyone quite like her friend.

The thing about Elsa was that there were so many little things that made her fantastic. Okay, she wasn't perfect, no one was, but she damn sure came close. 

Elsa Arens was beautiful, and her magic was as mesmerizing as she herself was, and remembering how the cold of her fingers had roamed over her body a week ago was enough to send pleasant shivers down Merida's back once again. That didn't mean Elsa was the most experienced person when it came to kissing or everything that could happen in a bedroom, but still the redhead thought that one night with her had been one of the best in her life.

But bedroom stuff aside, Elsa was also dazzling in many other ways. Her sassy attitude and surprising sense of humour were delightful, and when she sported a genuine smile it made Merida's day, and she made delicious pancakes, and her stubborn desire to not disappoint anyone ever was admirable, and in the end there was so much _warmth _behind her cold facade and snarky comments that Merida couldn't help but be drawn to it.

The best thing about Elsa, however, was how reliable and able to put up with bullshit she was. Merida didn't know anyone else she could call in the middle of the night for no reason whatsoever, or anyone else always willing to help her out even if she didn't ask. Even when she'd been flirting with her friend to the point it could become insufferable, even when she'd told Elsa, just in case, that she'd knock it off forever and keep her mouth shut if her whole seductive game made the former uncomfortable, the spy had never told her to stop.

Because that had been _Elsa's _game for the past three years, Merida thought as her bullets assaulted the shooting range's targets once more. Playing hard to get. Elsa knew her, knew she'd been looking to spend a night with her from the start (come on, who'd pass up the potential opportunity to sleep with the hottest girl in fucking Scandinavia?), and she'd decided not to make it easy for her. 

Merida had been okay with that. More than okay. She'd liked the challenge, and she was pretty damn good at getting girls in her bed these days, and if she wanted Elsa's name on her list (not that she even _remembered_ many names on there, but whatever), she'd do her damned best to ensure she could one day add it. So she'd been all Scottish charm and seductive flirting to try her luck and one day get that one night, and after that she'd thought they could go back to who they'd been before: colleagues, friends. Only then it would be minus the excessive flirting.

But now she couldn't get Elsa Arens out of her mind. At all.

It was ridiculous. She'd spent three years telling herself she wasn't any more interested in Elsa than she was in some random girl she could meet in some lowlife bar. She'd told herself she didn't give up on trying to seduce her friend because she was so easy on the eyes and so _difficult _to charm, and she'd told herself she'd be satisfied after that one night spent together. In reality, that plan had gone up in flames as soon as the morning after it had all finally taken place.

Goddamn it, _why _did Elsa have to be all smooth and smirky that morning? Why did she have to be so considerate? Why did she have to be nice enough to go through the trouble of inviting her to stay for breakfast? Hell, why did she even _want_ to spend more time with her? Merida didn't understand anything anymore, but still the realization that Elsa had wanted her to stay longer made her feel nice and warm inside, and-

Yeah. She was doomed.

That was why she'd gone for the shooting range that afternoon. Because she had to clear her mind. Get her thoughts in order. Because shooting bullets and fucking shit up was easier than accepting the fact she'd developed a fucking crush.

She raised the gun, fired for the umpteenth time.

And she missed her shot.

Seriously?

If she hadn't been hellbent on preserving at least a little bit of her dignity, Merida would have sworn up a storm and kicked something. Or multiple somethings. Instead, she counted to ten, and then dug her fingernails into her palms when that didn't help, hoping the pain could divert her attention anywhere else.

Merida Dunbroch didn't _miss_. She knew she was a talented shooter, and the shot she'd taken should have been easier than many others fired in actual life-or-death situations. But those were the easy situations, weren't they? Those situations she was trained to handle.

"Did I just see you _miss_?"

Yeah, go ahead and rub it in. Merida hadn't missed a shot in months, maybe even years. Was she _that_ out of it, so stressed over this whole thing? The more she thought about it, the more laughable it became.

"Fuck off and leave me alone."

There was a chance Mulan deserved an answer better than that. Something less rude. In that moment, Merida didn't care. Mulan was a Company agent; if she couldn't handle a few harsh words now and then, she had no business being one.

"A friendly reminder," Mulan said when Merida turned to face her, "that this is _my _range, and the only reason you get to spend so much time here for free is because I've given the Oslo branch permission to use it."

That was true. Under different circumstances, Merida had nothing against Mulan. In fact, she respected the Chinese woman. Mulan was always straight to the point, knew her way around weapons and didn't take shit from anyone. Qualities in a person Merida tended to be fond of. Still, she wasn't in the mood for chit-chat.

"_Fine_," she growled, lowering the weapon she was holding. "I _did_ miss. What's it to you?"

Mulan shrugged, crossed her arms. "Nothing. Just wanted to let you know it's time to wrap things up. It's getting late, and I wanna close up shop."

"What do you mean, 'late'?" Merida huffed, irritated. "I just got here."

The look Mulan gave her seemed to question her sanity. All confusion and mild concern. It wasn't a good sign.

"You didn't. You've been shooting for four hours straight without even taking a snack break."

"You're joking."

"I'm not. So… How are you feeling?"

Merida had always found that a terrible question. What did it matter how or what she was feeling? That was _her_ business, nobody else's. While she understood Mulan was just trying to show interest, the question still struck a nerve.

"Who do you think you are? Punzie?"

Much to her frustration, Mulan _really _didn't take shit from anyone. Not even from her. "Dunbroch, I don't want to get personal with you, but you've been shooting the shit out of my targets for literal hours and you missed the easiest shot of the century. Now, I'm going to be closing up and you're going to go home if you know what's good for you, but not before you tell me if you're feeling okay."

With that tone of voice, even Merida could see it was futile to argue. She _had _missed that stupid shot, and she wouldn't skip snack breaks without a good reason. Mulan, not unlike Elsa, knew her too well. Either that, or she'd become predictable. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"'M doing fine," she muttered with a sigh, shoving past Mulan and towards the exit. She flashed her colleague a quick smile for good measure, but she doubted it was convincing. "Just… Hungry, I guess. And my fingers hurt from shooting. But don't you gotta go, I don't know, save China or something?"

The uncanny feeling that Mulan hadn't bought her story came over her, but the woman knew better than to ask. "China can wait," she said. "Closing comes first, so get the hell out of here. Go home, eat, watch a movie or something."

Home? Merida didn't feel like going home at all. Too empty, too quiet. Too much time to think. "Noted."

Before she could set foot outside, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Mulan call after her: "Oh, and Merida? If something's bothering you, talk to Rapunzel!"

The advice came with the best intentions. Merida gave her colleague a weak thumbs-up without looking back. "Thanks. Will do."

_Absolutely will not do._

If Mulan could see something wasn't quite right with her, Merida thought as she left the building, then Rapunzel would be able to see it too. What a pain. Punzie had a nose for this stuff, and she tended to employ the most dastardly tactics, including but not limited to food bribes and puppy eyes, to get Merida to talk about her issues, with varying degrees of succes. Somehow, being roped into spilling her darkest romantic secrets to an excited, squealing girl with magic hair didn't sound so appealing. It strengthened Merida's belief that she had to fix herself. Fast.

She didn't move for a while, simply staying in place on the sidewalk, letting the noise of the city at night bounce off her, watching strangers with blank faces pass her by. She considered wandering off to find herself something to eat, but she didn't have a clue on where to go, and she didn't have an appetite for anything either, which served to make matters even worse. It meant her emotions were fucking her over so bad it was crippling.

It wasn't even the idea of having a crush in itself she despised. It was the fact that she had zero chance of actually being able to get anything serious with Elsa, not even if she did decide to put in effort and go for it. This stupid crush was bullshit, and her feelings were debilitating rather than useful. The last thing she needed was to fall for a woman who'd do better to stay away.

Merida knew herself, or at least liked to pretend she did. She knew she was difficult, troublesome. Someone's problem rather than their solution. Her mother had told her, and her father had agreed. Her teachers in high school had repeated the same, along with her classmates and coworkers and neighbours and _everyone_. Even if they did try to be nice, even if they smiled and didn't wish to let her know with how much suspicion they regarded her, wariness and disdain still snuck into her words.

And when she _did _find what she was meant to do, when she chose to embrace the one gruesome talent she had because no one had given her a reason not to, none of that had changed. Maybe she _had _started a new life, and the people around her had become less toxic, but the old label 'problematic' was something she couldn't get rid of even now. Normalcy didn't mean anything to her. Conventional had never been her thing. She'd given up on trying to be what she wasn't the moment she realised she was fighting a futile battle. It was better to fight for what she _could_ have… Whatever that was.

Elsa didn't need anything with her. _No one_ needed anything with her. And Merida didn't need anything from anyone either. She'd survived on her own for so long, she didn't even remember how to do anything else. Hell, so maybe she _had_ done everything God forbid, but that didn't mean she'd been unsuccesful in every aspect of her life. She had a job and more money than she ever thought she _could_ have, and she had some semblance of a social life and a little place in the world to call home. Why would she even want anything more? She didn't need anyone to fix the shit she broke. Not even if that shit was herself.

So Elsa Arens had to get the fuck out of her mind already. Period.

The best way to get rid of those damned feelings, she figured when she got her body to move, was the usual coping mechanism. The one Rapunzel always nagged about because it was 'unhealthy' or 'borderline' or whatever bullshit negative adjective she'd dish out. The first step would be to find a place where she could get a yet unknown amount of decent alcohol in her system. The second step was finding a girl able to take her mind off Elsa and her other struggles for the night. And in the morning, she'd be able to think more clearly, and then she could solve the whole problem with the crush if the umpteenth reckless night hadn't done that for her already.

But just when she was about to make a left turn in hopes of finding a proper bar, she saw something blue from the corner of her eye. A familiar shade of blue.

Merida spun around for a closer look, forgetting all about her plans for the night. A cold chill raced down her spine when the sight of the fiery, blue creature in front of her registered in her brain. The noise it made was soft, like a whisper or quiet breathing, but still she could hear it over the sound of police sirens, talking people and dogs barking. The blue glow was inviting, and the creature seemed to gesture for her to come closer.

_This shit again?_

A look around taught Merida no one but her saw the creatures. The same strangers kept passing her by, unaware of the wisps floating in their midst. Magic worked in strange ways, but exactly the same as three years ago. Without caring about what anyone could think of it, Merida crouched down, leveling with the wisp in front of her.

"You think this is an appropriate time to show up?"

The wisps and her were old acquaintances. After she'd left her family in Scotland behind, she'd managed to get on a train, not caring where it would take her, and she'd ended up wandering along Scotland's east coast, clueless as to where to go next. What place could a troubled teenager, all alone with nothing but some spare clothes and money, go to, anyway? 

The wisps had appeared when she'd been on the verge of an actual nervous breakdown, ready to do anything for a purpose, a destination, or even something as simple as a safe place to sleep. She'd been wary of the creatures from the start; she'd been raised on a healthy dose of folklore, and while she liked to believe in legends, she'd also considered herself a skeptic. A part of her had thought the stress was getting to her, thought she was hallucinating. And besides, even if the wisps were real, they could lead her to either her destiny or her doom. Or both.

But it wasn't like she'd had much of a choice.

She'd followed the tiny blue beings and ended up in front of a ship. At that point, she didn't care anymore where it would take her, or even if that damned boat could be her doom. She'd gone to see the captain, an unpleasant man named Hook (seriously?), and she'd somehow gotten him to agree to her tagging along. And after a few days of working her ass off, she'd found herself in Norway.

Then came the weeks of homelessness leading up to the life-changing mugging incident, but she had no time to go unpack all of that. The strange thing was that the wisps only seemed to show up when she was in severe distress. Was a _crush_ a reason to be in severe distress?

"I'm sure you fuckers can read my mind. Answer me."

The wisp made a soft noise that almost sounded like _giggling_. Merida tilted her head to look at the creature as it danced through the air, shining a soft blue in the orange glow of the streetlights around them. But, she realised, the wisp wouldn't answer her. All it did was beckon.

Destiny or doom. Maybe both. What did she have left to lose?

"You're lucky you're cute," she told the wisp as she pushed herself up off the ground, barely aware she was pretty much speaking to no one. "Or I'd regret getting a tattoo of you. Appearing now? What a fucking insult."

Like before, the wisp didn't say a word. It let out more giggly, breathy whispers as it motioned for her to follow, and Merida set out to follow her personal trail of blue guidance into the night. There was something comforting about knowing she didn't have to pay attention to where she was going; she'd end up where she needed to be anyway. It also allowed her to think of anything other than her emotional turmoil; when she was trying to figure out what fate had in store for her, she wasn't thinking about Elsa anymore. That alone was a victory. Now, if the blue fuckers could lead her to the best goddamned bar in town she hadn't discovered yet, her day would be _made_.

"I'm warning you: you doom me, I start shooting. And this time I won't miss."

It would've been better if the wisps could talk back. At least then Merida wouldn't look like a deranged lunatic talking to herself. She knew she could've kept her mouth shut, but speaking provided yet another distraction, and she could use quite a few. She wondered if it was even possible to shoot wisps. Probably not.

Right when she was about to pull out her gun to try and satisfy her curiosity, the trail of wisps ended. She'd reached the last in line and arrived where she needed to be. Her destiny or her doom. She looked up at the building she stood in front of, tried to remember why it felt familiar. Then realization screamed the answer in her ear.

It was an apartment building.

_Elsa's _apartment building.

"You're joking. This is _not_ happening, I swear to god, it fucking isn't…"

Merida glared daggers at the last wisp, staring at her with its bright, empty little eyes. She reached out for it on impulse, contemplating catching it and feeding it to Marshmallow, but when her fingers touched the blue fire, the creature vanished with a sigh in a puff of white smoke, leaving her alone again in the dark night.

Destiny? Doom? Both? Merida didn't know. Didn't _want _to know. Fate could go fuck itself, for all she cared. Couldn't she turn around and leave? Find a bar anyway, as was her original plan? She wanted to go. Her body wanted to _leave_ more than anything. But whenever she made to try and turn away to make a run for it, something inside of her rebelled, as if the instructions her brain gave her legs didn't get interpreted the right way.

Maybe she didn't want to leave after all. She glared at the intercom and reached for Elsa's doorbell, ready to make her presence known. Taking a deep breath, she tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind.

She could almost _see_ Elsa's expression when her voice seeped out of the intercom; that peculiar mixture of intrigued, surprised, happy and confused. Her friend had sported that same look when they'd made pancakes together a week ago, and Merida had to admit it was damned cute.

"Who's there?"

Hearing Elsa's voice alone was enough to launch her into an emotional roller coaster again. It was pathetic. Merida blinked a couple of times, almost unable to speak.

When the silence stretched on for too long, she went for the easiest option: "It's me." 

Unless Elsa knew more women with Scottish accents, which Merida deemed unlikely, she'd know who was there. And indeed, after a few seconds, the redhead sighed in relief when she heard a pleasantly surprised 'come up'. She stepped inside, glanced at the stairs leading up to the third floor, and was grateful she had a long way to go before reaching Elsa's apartment. It gave her more time to think of a reason she could give her colleague for her presence.

Was there anything she could say that didn't sound ridiculous? Okay, Elsa believed in magic, but still... What kind of person even chased after blue spirits spoken of only in legend? And what did that even mean? Merida couldn't explain it to herself, let alone to a trained, intelligent spy.

She'd started up the stairs at a slow pace, but it quickened the more she thought about the situation and grew angry. So maybe Elsa was her destiny, or her doom, or both at the same time. Awesome. Was this the Universe's way of screwing Merida Dunbroch over once again? Was she supposed to go up to Elsa, tell her about her feelings, face rejection and risk losing the one person she could stand to be around these days? 

Ridiculous. That plan was doomed to fail. Elsa wasn't an idiot, and she knew better than to consider starting anything with a fucking _murderer_. And a failure, at that. People like Elsa wanted solutions, not problems. Merida knew her place.

Destiny could go fuck itself, she decided when she reached the third floor. It had never specified in what way her and Elsa were connected, which meant she could put her own spin on it. Change fate. Rewrite whatever plan life had for her. Fuck, she lived on her own terms, and it wasn't for floating blue lights to decide what she was supposed to do. There had to be _something_ she could do about this whole mess. She had to find a way to solve the crush issue, while also making sure she didn't ruin Elsa in the process.

Her knocking on Elsa's door sounded foreign in her ears, even though she'd knocked on that door a million times ever since her colleague had moved into the apartment. Not that she was _nervous _or anything. Not at all. The knot in her stomach was just some random nausea, and her rapid blinking was a result of something in her eye. That, and nothing more.

When Elsa opened the door for her, however, Merida forgot how to breathe for a solid five seconds. Why the _fuck_ was this woman, cold as she was, allowed to be so hot? Even when she was wearing some old, plain blue T-shirt, she still made it work, and those dorky reading glasses she wore when she didn't feel like bothering with contacts were _not _supposed to look sexy. Merida felt her cheeks heat up and looked away instinctively, mumbling a few curses under her breath.

"Hi," Elsa said, eyeing her with curiosity. "Didn't expect to see you today. Did something happen?"

_It seems you're my destiny. I'm sorry, please don't hate me now._

"Oh, uh… No. Not really." Merida pulled herself together and looked Elsa in the eyes. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Elsa shook her head, leaned against the doorpost. "I was writing a report to wrap up this assignment I was working on, but it can wait."

"That's… that's great." Shit, Merida was happy she hadn't eaten much, or she'd have been in grave danger of vomiting in front of that bitch Weselton's apartment. "I was just… there's…"

Her mouth wouldn't comply anymore. She couldn't move. Her voice fell away, crumbling beneath Elsa's cool gaze. She studied her friend's face, took in the curiosity she found there, the raised eyebrow, the twitch of her mouth. God, Merida could drown in the blue of Elsa's eyes.

"There's this… proposal I've been thinking about."

If Rapunzel had been there to hear what she would suggest, she was sure she'd be declared insane on the spot. But it was the only thing Merida could think of that wasn't all terrible, the only thing she thought she could work with. She had to play her cards right, and then, in the end, she would be okay, and Elsa would be too. And it was selfish, she knew it was, but goddamn it, she could have _one _thing, right?

"No offense," Elsa deadpanned, "but I don't marry girls after sleeping with them once. Sorry."

Merida found it hard to keep a straight face at that, but still managed to rein in the slight, amused smile forming on her face. "Not _that_ kind of proposal."

It was just a conversation with Elsa. She'd had a thousand conversations with Elsa over the years. This one wasn't any different, wasn't any more difficult than eating or shooting a person. Merida could do this. All she had to do was find the proper words, lace them with the right amount of confidence, and see how it all played out.

With an impatient gesture, Elsa motioned for her to go on, eyeing her with intrigue, eager to hear what she had to say. Merida shoved her hands in her pockets, grounded herself. Casual indifference. She could do casual indifference.

"Well, I don't know about you, but _I_ had a good time last week, for starters." She made it sound as if it had all been nothing, even though it hadn't been close to nothing and closer to everything. But, she thought when she spotted the blush creeping up Elsa's cheeks and the nervous, quick adjustment of her glasses, she could see she was getting somewhere.

"I… suppose it was fun." For someone who could very well have been stressing out already, Elsa sure hid it well. Her voice was all composure, and she'd gotten her facial expressions in check within seconds, masking the surprise in her eyes with something entirely neutral.

If Merida had been any kind of conventional, that moment would've been the one for asking Elsa out for dinner, or even just inviting her over to watch a shitty movie and talk for a bit. But Merida didn't do conventional. Or dignity, for that matter.

"So if _I_ thought it was a good time, and _you _thought the same, then how about doing that more often?"

_Now _she understood what her mother had meant when she'd called her out for being far too insensitive and tactless and direct. It was something Merida kept telling herself to work on, though she rarely got around to trying and getting it done. Nevertheless, she decided she'd have to do her best to put more thought into her words next time.

For what it was worth, Elsa didn't look pissed yet. Her expression hadn't hardened, and she didn't seem to be planning to feed Merida to her gigantic cat. The temperature didn't fluctuate, and the slightest trace of amusement was hidden in her next question: "Do you have any sense of shame whatsoever?"

Merida shrugged, gave her friend a defiant look. "No. I thought you knew by now."

"I know a lot of things." There was still nothing to be spotted in Elsa's eyes, no particular emotion. Merida wondered if her colleague got a kick out of being near-impossible to figure out. "For example, I know I'm not your whore. You'd do well to remember that."

Even though there was no genuine hostility there, Merida did understand she had to phrase herself with more caution in the future. "Not what I meant," she said quickly, unwilling to destroy what didn't need to be broken. "What I'm suggesting is an… agreement of sorts. One that works both ways. No obligations anywhere, and it doesn't mean anything. In fact, nothing would change at all, aside from the fact that we could have some fun with this. Because why not? It's not like we've got anything to lose. Nobody cares, anyway, and if there's mutual benefit, there's no reason not to enjoy ourselves."

She probably sounded like a raging lunatic, but it was too late to back out, and she'd lost her ability to care years back. She studied Elsa once again, tried to make out whatever she was feeling, but didn't grow any wiser. Her friend was thinking, that she was sure of; she'd recognize that thoughtful frown anywhere. Was she actually considering it, contemplating, figuring out if there was any sense in Merida's words? Or was she trying to come up with the best method to decline in a polite way and slam the door shut?

"If you want me to," Merida said, taking a step closer to Elsa, "I'll back down and we'll go back to normal and I'll never mention all of this again. No's an answer, it always is. Just… think about it for a second. And let me know what you think."

There. She'd gotten it out. Her resolve. Her middle finger in destiny's face. She could have Elsa, like the Universe in its endless stupidity seemed to have decided for her, but she'd give her own meaning to it. This was the best way to go. This limited the damage done, but also allowed her to enjoy herself until it was all doomed to inevitably end. A temporary solution. At some point she'd be over Elsa, and she could break this whole thing down again, destiny or no destiny. But for now, she'd take what she could get.

Well… first she needed an answer.

Waiting had always been agonizing for her, but Merida didn't think she'd ever been more impatient. Despite that, she managed to stay still and quiet, gazing in Elsa's eyes with the most inviting look and the friendliest smile she could dig up. And she waited, braced for words of any kind.

What she got was better than words. She felt a cold hand latch on to the collar of her jacket, tugging lightly to draw her closer, and for once didn't mind the silence as warm and cold collided when her lips met Elsa's. Her eyes were closed, but the amazing sensation of the kiss was enough to make her see stars, and she'd never thought she could get high on the scent of vanilla perfume and the taste of chocolate.

The wisps had led her to either her destiny or doom. When Merida pulled away with a strange fuzzy feeling in her stomach and regained her train of thought, she came to the conclusion that she'd sealed her definite doom with that one kiss that ended way too soon. But her doom was beautiful and sweet and looking at her with shining eyes, and if this would be the end of her someday, Merida would have been more than fine with it.

"I _did _say my report could wait," Elsa said with a promising smirk, loosening her grip on Merida's collar without letting go. Her glasses were a little askew on her face, but she didn't seem to care.

Merida adjusted the glasses gently and wondered why the hell her friend didn't wear them more often when they looked so good on her, but the question lost its importance within seconds when she remembered there were far more important things to focus on. She smiled, for _real_, and said: "Then I'll make sure your time's well spent."

And for the first time in years, Merida thought she truly felt okay. At least for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll get back to the main storyline, but I hope you enjoyed this interlude! Feel free to let me know your thoughts on the chapter or story in general; I appreciate any and all comments!


	15. Chapter 14: A talk of feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa and Merida have a much-needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the story progresses! Could've had this up yesterday if there hadn't been a goddamned mouse in my curtains, but let's... let's not go unpack all of that.
> 
> Enjoy!

Elsa wondered what the hell she was doing out on the streets of Oslo on what was supposed to be a quiet monday evening.

Well… it wasn't like she didn't _know_. More like.. the more she thought about it, the more ridiculous the whole thing began to sound. She'd decided to give herself the night off and take time to relax, and she'd been more than ready to make herself comfortable on her couch with a pile of chocolate. She could've been half-heartedly watching mind-numbing pulp on Netflix, listening to B-list actors drivel on and on about whatever nonsense happened in their movie while searching for an assignment on her laptop, and she could've fallen asleep while doing so with Marshmallow and Olaf waddling over to lie next to her.

But she couldn't say no to _Anna_. She'd never been able to, not unless her sister's safety was on the line. She hadn't said no when they were kids and her younger sibling had wanted to prank their father with bath bombs, and she hadn't said no when Anna wanted her to buy no less than three boxes of Belgian pralines the week before, and goddamn, at this point she'd probably have jumped off a bridge if Anna told her to do so.

That evening, after Anna had skipped dinner to prepare for what she called a 'not-date' with her friend Kristoff, the younger girl had shown up in the living room with a sheepish smile and a hairbrush. Elsa had taken one look at her sister's hairdo, which looked a bit like a drowned marmot had made itself at home on her head due to her shower ("I mean, it's a _not-date_, but that doesn't mean I don't need to _smell nice_!"), and sat her down at the kitchen table to help fix her hair.

Anna had fidgeted a lot, and she'd been stress-eating from a small bag of Skittles, and Elsa had eventually asked her what was bothering her. If it was something about that Kristoff boy, if the guy had hurt Anna's feelings in any way, Elsa didn't think she'd have hesitated to give him the same treatment Hans had received the moment she laid eyes on him.

"You look a bit… tense. Are you okay?"

Her sister had snorted, almost choking on her Skittles, and said: "it's okay, Elsa. Really."

A lot could be said about Elsa, but no one could ever claim she didn't realize it when she was being buried under a truckload of bullshit. "I can hear it when you're lying. You see, I was _trained_ for that. If you don't want to talk, I won't bring it up, but do know I'm not fooled that easily."

She'd heard her sister sigh. "Do you remember what Dad gave me, a few days before you… before you… vanished from the radar?"

_Before you left me alone with my pain, is what you wanted to say._

Elsa had kept quiet for a few seconds, recalling, though it was for show more than anything. If Anna hadn't been sitting with her back turned to her, she'd have known her older sibling remembered perfectly fine. How could Elsa _not _remember? Each and every moment she'd spent at home between the incident and her running away for good remained etched in her brain, showed up crystal clear in her nightmares.

She recalled how the scent of death had seemed to cling to her baby sister, as if the Grim Reaper himself wanted to taunt her and never allow her to forget the _murder _she'd almost comitted. She recalled barely being able to eat whatever her parents prepared for dinner, her appetite lost along with her happiness whenever her parents' distraught looks and the sheer coldness Anna had radiated came back to her. And most of all, she recalled a quick goodbye whispered at her family in the night, minutes before she turned her back on everyone she'd ever known and disappeared into the woods under the heavy cover of darkness.

"I remember." It was hard to keep her voice from shaking, but she managed. "A rock."

The rock in question had been an especially pretty one: kyanite, coloured a shade of yellowish brown covered with beautiful streaks of dark blue. It had still smelled like the earth her father had pulled it out of on the trolls' ground on that fateful night, and a day after the incident, when Elsa had taken to ignoring Anna and this pushing away caused her sister to grow quiet and sad, Dad had taken the younger girl apart for a second and showed her the kyanite with a smile. He'd given it to her, told her the trolls of the woods blessed it and that it was a charm for good luck, and five-year-old Anna, who hadn't even been enthusiastic about having chocolate pudding for dessert before, lit up in an instant.

Of course, Anna didn't remember their visit to the trolls the night before. She had been unconscious, her body fighting the malicious magic eating away at her, and she'd been so still and silent Elsa had had to keep paying attention to the rise and fall of her chest to make sure she was still alive and breathing in the pine-scented air of the woods. Anna hadn't heard the ominous warnings the old troll had fed their parents, hadn't felt fear numb all her senses as she stared at the vision of the snarling monster her sister could become.

Elsa had seen how much her parents struggled in the aftermath. How they looked at her, confused and afraid and _pitiful_, the old troll's words following them around like a nasty stench. They had no clue what to do with her, how to handle her, how to stop her if she found herself on the verge of hurting someone again. And Elsa, during yet another lunch coated in a tense, awkward silence, had understood that she was a problem that couldn't be fixed. The least she could do for her parents, for her sister, was spare them the trials and tribulations and the pain, and remove herself from their lives. Forever.

Not that _that _had worked out in the end.

Anna's humming of approval had shaken her out of her shitty flashbacks, bringing her back to a present in which she was trying to get her sister's hair under control, its almond shampoo-scent almost overwhelming.

"Yeah. Troll rock, he called it. I always kept it and took good care of it, you know… Well, aside from that one time the neighbour's dog almost ate it when I was, like, ten, but… Yeah."

Elsa hadn't been there when Anna was ten. The thought had made her brushing grow a little more aggressive, but her sister hadn't complained. 

"I see. But can I ask why that's relevant today?"

The bag of Skittles Anna had been clearing out was discarded. "After Hans… broke up with me," she'd begun, reluctant, "everything just... _hurt _so much. So I carried the troll rock along with me wherever I went as a talisman of sorts. It was comforting." Her fingers wandered to her discarded bag of sweets on the kitchen table. "But when Moana and I went out to get us some of these today... I'm afraid I lost the rock somewhere along the way."

Now _that_ was something Elsa hadn't believed for a second. She'd heard Anna complain about losing countless possessions ever since the girl had come to live with her: sunglasses, deodorant bottles, hell, even her _chocolate _disappeared without a trace sometimes (though Elsa had to admit she may or may not have been responsible for that last thing). 

But a precious gift from their deceased father? 

There was no way her sister wouldn't keep a tight hold on such an item. If she'd legitimately lost it, Anna would have already rallied up a few dozen people to search for it all over Oslo. And besides… Elsa had been quite sure she'd seen the kyanite rock in its usual spot on her sibling's nightstand when she'd been cleaning the apartment the day before.

So Anna was trying to feed her lies. But why? Elsa had pained her mind in an attempt to figure it out, but couldn't reach a sensible conclusion. So she'd sighed in exasperation and asked: "When and where did you lose it?"

Anna, whose hair had looked a whole lot more presentable when Elsa was done with it, had stood up and given her a pleading look. "A few hours back, I think, in Slottsparken. You know, the park near school, surrounding the Royal Palace?"

"Anna. You do realise I've lived in this city for half my life, right?"

"Okay, _fine_, you know Slottsparken, I get it. But the thing is, maybe no one found it and took it away yet, and then it would still be lying around in the park somewhere. And I'd love to go look for it myself right now, but Kristoff's picking me up for our not-date at Tony's in ten minutes, so… I'm doomed."

Elsa'd thought she understood where the conversation was heading. "You're doomed, unless…?"

Her sister fidgeted as she dumped her empty bag of Skittles in the trash. "So, if you have time tonight, which I know you have, could you… check it out for me? Please? You don't need to search _hard _for it or anything, but you might just find it, and… it's all I've got left of Dad, Elsa."

All Anna had left of their father was right up there on her nightstand. Elsa had frowned while listening to all those twisted truths, but still didn't bring it up. 

"Slottsparken is huge. Twenty-two hectares."

A desperation had found its way into Anna's eyes, and somehow, Elsa knew she wasn't acting then. 

"Like I said, you don't need to search _hard_, just... take a look in the area of the park around school if you can, okay? If you find it, I'll love you forever."

There was an ulterior motive. Of course there was. Anna was trying to fool her into something, and if she thought some flimsy lie like a lost rock would work on a trained spy, she hadn't really thought whatever she had planned out that much. Either that, or she _did_ think her plan was foolproof.

"If it makes you happy, I'll take a look soon. Okay?"

Where was the harm? Anna wouldn't lie to her without a good reason, she'd thought, and her sister, all kind words and sunny smiles and affection, wouldn't have any malicious intent, she was sure of it. But still, there had to be a reason why she was so adamant on Elsa going to the park. A reason Anna wouldn't give her upon being asked, or she would've been upfront about it in the first place. Elsa's curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she'd vowed to make work of paying Slottsparken a visit.

If anything, the wide smile on her sister's face was reward enough already. She'd gotten showered in at least fifty thank-yous, and she was sure she would've gotten more had it not been for Anna's friend Kristoff calling to say he was in the parking lot. Anna had wondered under her breath about what kind of cologne the boy would wear, which, according to Elsa, was _not _something to wonder about on a so-called not date, and the latter had pushed her sister out the door with a well-meaning 'have fun and eat well'.

When Anna had left her alone, Elsa had skipped up the stairs and entered her sister's bedroom, its door creaking when she opened it. There, on Anna's nightstand, lay the kyanite her sibling claimed to have lost, its brilliant blue hues in stark contrast with the softer colours of the rest of the room. Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose, sighed, and considered telling Anna she had to come up with more convincing lies when she came back from her definitely-not-romantic dinner with Kristoff.

But even if the lie was so badly executed it almost caused her physical pain, Elsa hadn't been able to drown out the voice of her curiosity telling her to go see for herself why Anna wanted her to get out of the apartment so bad. So she'd left her apartment at a quick pace, without even stopping to get herself some chocolate for on the way, and braved the noises of the city at night to get to her car and drive to Slottsparken.

She'd always quite liked that park, she thought as she approached it, squinting to see the smooth path in the twilight as she followed it. Antique streetlights attempted to illuminate the freshly-mowed grass and tall trees with their branches swinging in the wind around her, but it didn't aid her much. 

She figured her eyes would get used to the dark. They'd have to. If they didn't, she wouldn't see any danger if it came to attack her. She hadn't forgotten about the incident at the Port of Oslo, and she didn't dare lie to herself and say that didn't matter anymore. She'd waited and seen nothing of those catalyst-lunatics as time went on, but that fact alone didn't mean she could consider herself or those she cared about _safe._ The scent of danger still hung in the air like storm clouds on a humid summer's day, and Elsa knew better than to let her guard down.

In spite of all her slumbering discomfort, though, she found it quite peaceful to wander around the park at night with no destination in mind, alone for the most part and unbothered by everything and everyone. As if the world was hers for once, hers and hers alone, and no one could enter the protective bubble she'd shrouded herself in as she walked along. There was no one around she could hurt in any way, and no one around to hurt _her_ either. That was the way she liked it. She relished the quiet disturbed only by the noise of cars honking in the distance, and, once more, wondered what Anna had wanted her to see.

"So you're enjoying the fresh air here too, huh?"

The answer to Elsa's question regarding Anna's reasons for sending her out was nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie, leaning back on a park bench and speaking to her with that _stupid_ Scottish accent.

Coincidence? Elsa thought not.

She stared at Merida, who rubbed her nose and kept eating, incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"No need to be so cold." Merida laughed, but its sound was humourless, and a frown lay on her face. "Like I said, I'm enjoying the fresh air. And waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"The apocalypse. Eating these cookies while I still can."

"_Merida_."

"Not funny?" Elsa watched Merida shift, her voice a monotone. "That's not my problem, is it now? And by the way, you've already asked me two questions without ever answering mine. I want to see an answer."

Elsa, eyeing Merida's small stash of chocolate chip cookies, felt frost creep over her palms, but didn't bother to hide it. Goddamn it, this was _far_ from a coincidence. When Anna had told her to go to Slottsparken, sending her there with a lie, there was no way she _hadn't _known Merida would be there. Elsa confirmed the suspicion she'd felt the moment she'd first spotted her colleague on that park bench, beneath one of the numerous streetlights: Anna had meddled and set her up for this.

_Why_?

Well… She knew why, didn't she?

"Anna told me she lost something here," she said, using the most neutral voice she had. "She was lying, because I saw the object in question on her nightstand… But I was still curious, and…" she shrugged. "Now I'm here."

Merida held up her package of cookies, patted the empty spot on the bench next to her. "Seeing as you're here anyway, might as well sit down and eat something."

This was a bad idea. This was a _very _bad idea. Whatever Anna had been hoping to achieve, Elsa didn't believe for a second it wouldn't end up stabbing her right in the heart again. Her body screamed at her to decline, turn away and set out to go back home and spend the rest of the evening watching shitty movies, executing her original plan.

But those cookies smelled _really_ good and she always had an appetite for them. Or at least, she told herself she stayed for the cookies and nothing else. Even if she _did _stay for Merida and all those funny feelings the latter could give her, she wouldn't have voiced the thought.

Looking her friend in the eyes, she helped herself to a cookie and asked: "And now I want to know the real reason behind you being here. I know you. You're not here just for the hell of it. To be fair, the fact you even managed to bring up the patience to sit still here impresses me."

A sly smirk grew on Merida's face, and her voice took a playful turn. "Good to know I impress you," she said, wiping a few stray cookie crumbs from the corner of her mouth, "but I already told you. I was waiting. Your sister told me to meet her in this park at seven, and I decided to make an effort and humour her."

When had Anna ever told Merida such a thing? In her mind, Elsa replayed every instance she remembered of her sister interacting with her colleague: their first meeting, the time Anna had seen Merida kiss her and subsequently decided to invite her to dinner, and last but not least, two days ago, when Merida had been having breakfast in their apartment after staying the night.

Had Anna somehow managed to rope Merida into a private conversation last saturday? But how? Elsa recalled her sister going outside to answer Kristoff on the phone, but by then, Merida would've been long gone, considering how fast she left upon Anna's arrival. Had she stayed behind? Why? And if that was indeed the case, then what would Anna have talked to her about?

Did it even matter? It was the way it was, and she was here now, in Slottsparken, with Merida's intense gaze turning her insides to mush. She became hyperaware of that damned outdoorsy _Merida_ scent she'd gotten so fond of, and… Okay, she'd taste deliciously like chocolate chip cookies if they were to kiss now, right?

But somehow, the idea of kissing Merida now didn't feel _right_. Whatever Anna was playing at, she hadn't simply placed them in the park together so they could kiss and go about business as usual. No. Elsa wasn't an idiot, and figuring out what her sister had pushed them to do wasn't too difficult. Anna had wanted them to _talk_. She saw that now, and wondered why she hadn't realized before.

"Anna won't come," she told Merida as she finished eating her cookie. "She's on a not-date to this Italian restaurant with a friend. She says it's nothing, but I won't be surprised if they end up cuddling on my couch. The way she talks about him implies he's her new crush, or on his way to becoming just that."

Merida narrowed her eyes. "Not another guy like that whiney motherfucker Hans, right? I still haven't been able to get that asshole's boozey stench out of my nostrils."

"This one seems different. Better. He's taking her out for dinner, at least, so… that's a good sign?"

It _was_, right? Even if they called it a not-date, they still went out to have fun together, and there was actual _feeling_ in the ordeal. And unlike Elsa, Anna wouldn't have so many doubts about voicing or otherwise showing her feelings once they'd developed. Because Anna was _Anna_, and Anna didn't like making every little thing difficult for herself.

"That's a good sign," Merida confirmed, throwing the now-empty package of cookies in the trash can next to her. "Makes up for her missing out on these cookies. I wanted to bribe her with them if she got unreasonable, but then she didn't show up at all, and I thought I'd just… stay for a bit and eat them myself."

Merida shivered, and Elsa cursed herself in silence, even though it did nothing to stop the air around her from growing colder. She broke their eye contact, averted her gaze, unable to look her friend in the eye. "Why… why did you need to bribe my sister in the first place?"

Merida's face turned a dark shade of red in the twilight. "It's… you know, just… yeah."

What a delightful, crystal clear answer. Elsa bit her lip, focusing on the pain that caused to avoid keeping her attention too trained at Merida and how close she was. They sat in silence, neither of them speaking, neither wanting to be the first to bring up the dreaded subject Anna had wanted them to talk about.

Because that had been the intention, wasn't it? Anna had observed them, came to her own conclusions and moved them to Slottsparken like a chess player moving pieces over a board, ending with both Elsa and Merida now stuck in a predicament akin to Seven minutes in Heaven: Anna had locked them up inside a proverbial closet and wouldn't let them out until they'd done what she wanted them to do.

That analogy, Elsa knew, wasn't foolproof in the end. She knew she could walk away whenever she wished. She could go home and tell Anna it hadn't worked out, and she'd deal with her sister's look of disappointment, and then, in a best-case scenario, Anna would give it rest and everything could return to normal.

_So why aren't you leaving yet?_

"She wants us to talk, I guess." If Elsa had been able to turn any paler than she already was, she was sure she would've done so upon speaking those words.

"Talk?" Merida seemed to be wearing a perpetual, uncomfortable frown.

"Yeah. About… us."

"Us."

"Our agreement."

Merida sighed, scratched her cheek for the sake of busying herself. "Look… About that… Anna… told me a few things."

Now _that _was alarming.

"When did you even talk to her?"

"I stopped to answer a phone call from Hiccup… You know, about those cryptic messages I told you about? And then she just came rushing at me and wanted to talk. All went quite fast, but she seemed a bit… concerned."

Concerned? Elsa had been concerned too that morning, due to Merida's (and, to an extent, her own) confused state of mind. Not too much, but their breakfast had still been awkward. She'd woken up an hour earlier, feeling warm and safe, and when her eyes had fluttered open she was so close to Merida, who was still half-asleep and most definitely not hugging her closer. And when the redhead had realised she was awake and that thought made her come to her senses, she'd tried to scramble away and apologize, but Elsa, having lost her common sense in her dreams somewhere, had made sure to hold on to her and whisper in her ear she had to stay a little longer. 

And Merida _had_ stayed and hadn't let her go, for Elsa wasn't sure how long, but what she did know for sure was that the feeling of her friend's heartbeat was comforting and that her curls felt so soft in the morning and that her accent sounded unintelligible but nothing short of adorable when she was still sleep-drunk. For a little moment, that was bliss. But when they'd realised it was about time to get out of bed, they hadn't mentioned it anymore, keeping their distance, pretending it hadn't happened at all, unsure of why they'd decided to cuddle in the first place.

"And what happened then?"

Merida shrugged. "Well, we talked, and… Uh…"

If anyone liked getting straight to the point in spite of a tendency to go off on a tangent, Elsa knew, it was Merida Dunbroch. But in that moment, the redhead seemed hellbent on dancing around the subject. Her eyes darted around, her mouth twitched. Telltale signs of someone nervous. Elsa wondered if she herself fared any better.

"Get… get to the point, Mer."

Taking a deep breath, Merida spoke: "Anna said you like me."

Oh.

Well, that was a total catastrophe.

It took her a great amount of effort, but Elsa managed to make reluctant eye contact with the murderer next to her, aware of the fact both of their faces showed a deep blush. "Is that really what she said?"

Another shrug, casual indifference on display. Typical Merida. But for once, Elsa noticed, her friend's thoughts didn't seem to wander.

"She did. So… I guess I'm kind of wondering if that's true or not..."

The words felt strained, trapped in the neutral tone Merida had locked them in. But there was something vulnerable embedded in it, something soft meant for her eyes only, and its presence made Elsa feel at ease and almost eager to satisfy Merida's hunger for an answer by giving it to her. The honest answer she'd forced herself to hide for such a long time.

But when she spoke, all that came out was: "I know better than liking someone who's rather clear about not being interested in committing to a relationship."

Merida's frown reappeared, or maybe it had never left. There was a hint of fearful indignation in her eyes. "Did I say that sometime?"

Elsa shook her head. "You didn't, but you implied it well enough. Come on, Mer. You sleep with strangers almost as frequently as you eat, and _you_ were the one who came to _me_ asking for an agreement that allowed us to sleep together without any feelings being involved. If that doesn't scream 'I don't care about relationships' to you, then I don't know what does."

Not for the first time that evening, Merida looked away from her. Her fingers tugged at the sleeves of her favourite jacket absent-mindedly, and her persistent silence for a good twenty seconds let Elsa know she'd made a point.

The murderer's retort came seconds before Elsa wanted to continue speaking herself: "I actually didn't sleep with anyone but you after we set up that whole agreement thing."

All in all, Elsa could positively say she had _not_ seen that coming. She wondered if those cookies Merida had eaten had been spiked with drugs, because this wasn't something she'd expected her to say unless her normal, already somewhat deranged mind had been disturbed. "You… didn't? Not even once?"

"Oh, it's not like I didn't _try_," Merida spat, face reddening with every second, "especially not at first. But then, it… I don't know… I… those strangers weren't _you_."

Now Elsa was sure her own face looked red too. That statement… did it imply what she thought it implied? Or was she simply eating up what Merida said and adding her own interpretation to it because she wanted to do so, believing her colleague had feelings for her without it being true?

She thought the best course of action would be to do what Merida liked those who spoke to her to do: be direct. Careful to keep her voice devoid of teasing, showing she was nothing but serious, she asked: "Does… does that mean you _like_ me, or…?"

Merida narrowed her eyes. "Believe me when I say I tried not to, but you know me. I fail at everything that isn't murder."

That wasn't true, and Elsa knew it. She recalled when she'd first met Merida, four years ago. Hiccup had called her while she'd been having lunch, to tell her some street kid had tried to mug him while he was on his way home. The girl, obviously, hadn't known she'd attempted to try and take down a trained secret agent, he told her, but she'd put up a good fight, something he admired, and when he, after rendering her unconscious, had taken a good look at her, dirty and malnourished and her skin scraped and bruised, he'd taken pity on her and brought her home to see if he could help her. He'd come to Elsa to ask if she could run an extensive background check on one Merida Dunbroch, the name listed on the ID she had in her pocket, and look if she could be of any use to the company.

And Elsa, who didn't think much of it, had abandoned her lunch and gone straight for her laptop, making herself comfortable and spending her afternoon scouring the internet to figure out who Merida Dunbroch was. Later that day, she knew everything there was to know about the girl: she was the same age as Elsa, had three brothers, was born in Inverness, known as the capital of the Scottish Highlands, and had grown up to be quite the problem child. Her disappearance had been a minor note in an online newspaper, and how she'd ended up in Oslo was beyond Elsa, but there was one aspect of her life that stood out the most: when she was ten years old, she'd won first place in a national archery competition, becoming the UK's junior champion. That had meant Merida Dunbroch had a useful talent.

"You're not a failure," Elsa said, "you were a literal archery champion once. How many people can say they achieved something like that?"

Merida groaned, running a frustrated hand through her hair. "That doesn't matter. Doesn't magically make me a good person or anything."

"Is there anyone who needs you to be one?"

Silence.

"_Merida_."

"It's _you_, okay, you need me to be a good person, because that's.. because that's what you _deserve_, don't you understand?"

Stunned, Elsa stiffened, wondering if that truly was what Merida thought. She supposed it was true, seeing as her friend had no reason to lie, but those self-deprecating words… while she didn't mind the implication that the murderer seemed to _like_ her, the complete defeat in her tone was heart-wrenching.

Four years ago, when Elsa had first laid eyes on their new Scottish problem child, she hadn't known what to think of her. The girl was cute, but even after reading about her all day, Elsa still hadn't been able to say she _knew_ her. Merida, upon waking up in Hiccup's guest bedroom and seeing both him and Elsa there, had lashed out in a hostile way, glaring and cursing everything and everyone, on the verge of punching one of them in the face. When Hiccup had somehow managed to calm her down, he'd given her a choice: she could accept the job he offered her, or she could go back to the streets and rot there. Not that either he or Elsa would have had the heart to send her away, but the redhead didn't need to know that.

Before Hiccup had given Merida a chance to accept the job, he'd told her of the sacrifices she'd have to make: she'd need to get her unchecked rage under control and leave everything she knew behind, forget the person she used to be. And when Elsa had looked into Merida's eyes then, taking in the numbness in that intense bored glare that seemed to be her trademark, she'd known Merida Dunbroch had buried the young archery champion with the wide cheerful smile six feet under a long time ago.

She hadn't thought highly of Merida back then, choosing to be wary of her. Hell, she wasn't even sure why Hiccup had considered it a good idea to give a deranged Scottish teenager with anger issues a gun. But as she'd spent more time with Merida, learning more about the person behind the heap of information she'd found online, she'd discovered who Merida Dunbroch was as a person: the redhead spoke her mind almost too much, but could also be sympathetic if she wanted to be, and her smiles were bright and easy, and she was determined and more than ready to fight for her place in the world, but never came across as insincere.

And she was broken, god, so fucking broken. A kind of damaged not even Rapunzel, with all her kindness and skill, had been able to safe her from. But Merida always shrugged it off and kept going without ever taking a break, because she'd rather die exhausted than sit down and succumb to the dangerous darkness around her and let herself be dragged down to Hell by a tragic past.

"I could list a thousand reasons proving you're not nearly as awful as you think," Elsa said with a soft voice, "but you won't believe me, will you?"

Merida snorted, stubborn. "Damn right."

"So I won't try, because it'll only annoy you, but I do want to tell you this, Mer: You made me have feelings for you, and that's saying something." Elsa hoped Merida wouldn't think she was faking her affectionate smile, because she wasn't. The redhead had always had the peculiar ability to give her genuine happiness.

The chuckle she got for a reply was quite humourless, but to say there was no humour in it whatsoever would've been a lie. Merida shifted and faced her, staring at her, and the subtle spark in her eyes balanced on the razor's edge between amused and miserable. "You… You _do_ know you could get so much better than me, right?"

It was Elsa's turn to shrug, leaning closer to Merida on instinct. "What if I don't want better? I'd much rather have you."

"That's crazy."

"Why?"

Merida sighed. "Let's say there's… a chance us becoming a thing will work out. But there's also a chance of it _not _working out… because, well, I'm me, and you're you, and who knows how we're going to end up? Take a look at us and all our abnormalities, and then tell me if you want to put everything we ever had on the line for something that might just end in heartbreak."

For once, Elsa couldn't say Merida's thought process lacked rationality. If they decided to become a couple, what Anna encouraged them to be, who knew how long it would last? Elsa was more than aware something like that could have a bittersweet ending, and it could destroy more of the both of them than necessary. But now that they'd voiced their feelings, was there any chance at all they'd ever be able to go back to normal anyway? What if they truly were past the point of no return this time?

With a determined look, Elsa locked eyes with the woman who somehow always made her _feel_. "Someone once told me," she said, her words slow, "that if we're all going to die in the end, we might as well take a risk or two."

The world around them had grown darker as time passed, trees and grass and twisting paths being swallowed by a blackness. Still, Elsa felt at ease even though her nerves were killing her, unsure as she was of what Merida would say.

"You want to try this shit for real?" Merida asked, but she didn't avert her gaze. Elsa took that as a good sign. "Be a conventional couple, I mean? Because we're bad at conventional. And at relationships too, I guess."

Elsa didn't need to think twice before answering: "I have a good feeling about it now. So why not see where it gets us?"

She got a slight nod. Merida remained silent for a few seconds, blinking fast, and muttered: "This is all a bit… unfamiliar."

"It… it is. You're right." Elsa wasn't sure if all that happened (was Merida really her _girlfriend_ now?) registered in her mind, but it didn't feel important anymore. Merida _was_ right. This situation was, in the end, quite new for them both, and Elsa couldn't say she didn't ache for something resembling normalcy. She hummed, wrapped her arms around Merida's neck and closed the last bit of frustrating distance between them, closing her eyes and smiling into the kiss when she felt her lover's lips on hers.

Kissing Merida, at least, still felt familiar even now, she thought when the former's curls tickled her face and she felt the her hand slowly slide into her hair to bring her even closer. And still, there was something different about that kiss too; the sheer softness and _feeling_ that had gone into it was enough to make Elsa freeze for a second, as if her magic had gone into overdrive. Her cold made Merida shiver, but it didn't cause her to pull away, which Elsa was grateful for while she took her time exploring Merida's mouth.

Much to her relief, Merida was definitely smiling when they broke apart, even though it was subtle, and her fingers had gotten lost somewhere in the fabric of Elsa's shirt and now dug into her back. She didn't let go right away, also not something Elsa would complain about, and kept her face so close to the spy's that the latter could feel her breathing and her lingering lips. "We… We'll get used to this, isn't it? Should be easy if you keep kissing me like this."

Elsa couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on her face, and playfulness snuck into her tone almost without her permission. "The best thing about being a normal couple is that there doesn't need to be any justification of it. Or casual indifference, for that matter."

That was something Merida picked up on quick enough, the desire for more shining in her eyes. "So… You won't mind if I pull you in for another kiss, right?"

But of course, they couldn't have a _single_ blissful moment without an interruption of sorts.

Elsa, even before she could come up with a reply, perked up, listening to her surroundings while motioning for Merida to keep quiet. She looked around in the dark, trying to figure out where the footsteps disturbing Slottsparken's quiet came from, and found an intruder approaching them from behind: A man shrouded in shadow.

"That one of our catalyst friends?" Merida mouthed, scrunching up her nose in disgust and eyeing the trash can next to her as if contemplating shoving the man in there in the most violent way possible as soon as she got the chance. And if she was right about the man being out to get them, Elsa thought, she wouldn't have minded if the redhead had done just that.

The voice reaching their ears, though, was a familiar one. "About time you two decided not to be completely blind to your feelings for each other. So which one of you confessed first? I need to know if Rapunzel owes me a burger when we manage to find her."

Relieved and somewhat annoyed, Elsa let Hiccup's words sink in. It had been a while since they'd last spoken face-to-face, she realized upon looking at him: he'd had a bit of a stubble before, but now he sported a full beard. Not that that was what she was most interested in; she was more concerned with why he'd come out to talk to them in person. As director of the Company's Oslo Branch, he tended to be busy and often lacked time to go see his employees, no matter how close he'd once been to them.

"How'd you even know we were here?" Elsa asked when he came to a halt in front of them, despite being aware of the stupidity of the question. She was sure Hiccup had twice as many informants and sources all over the country than she could ever have, and all he'd have to do to find their whereabouts would be to send one of his numerous proverbial sleuthhounds to search for them.

Merida, her mind probably still occupied by the sudden new developments in her life, could only stare at her superior with mild disgust. "I don't know what possessed you to make you think that beard was a good idea."

The face Hiccup pulled was one of faked hurt. "Good evening, Hiccup," he began, sarcasm dripping from his words, "How are you, Hiccup? Is your wife doing okay? Your daughter? We're such polite people, Hiccup, and we appreciate your positive presence in our lives so, _so_ much."

Elsa stood up, speaking over Merida's grumbled 'positive?' and giving Hiccup an apologetic look. "Uh… How are you?"

"Too late now," he replied, running a hand through his beard as if Merida's insult had made him feel self-conscious about it. "There's a more pressing matter I need to discuss with you, anyway. You might want to brace yourself for this."

It wasn't surprising to Elsa that Merida didn't move an inch. "This about Rapunzel?" She asked, irritation evident in her voice. "You must be dying to put actual _effort_ into finding her now, seeing as she might owe you."

Now Hiccup's expression of hurt became real. "You _know_ I've used as many of our resources available to try and find her. I can't help it she and her mother seem to have… disappeared off the surface of the Earth altogether."

"That's what's easy for you to say. You claim to be a man with power, don't you? You can _make _people disappear without a trace if you want them gone, but you do an _awful_ job at bringing your own people back."

Elsa looked from Merida's face contorted in anger to Hiccup's face sporting a frown. She couldn't deny her new girlfriend had a point: Hiccup, who could conjure up all her personal information within five minutes or have at least ten people ready to feed her to piranhas if he needed to dispose of her, should by all means have been able to find Rapunzel Gothel after weeks of her being gone. But on the other hand, she knew for a fact that Hiccup was doing everything in his power to bring the missing girl back, which only went to show the great power of whoever they were up against. In any case, she felt he didn't deserve Merida's hard blow.

With a sigh, Hiccup spoke up: "You're not the only one who wants Rapunzel to show up alive and well, Merida. Trust me when I say I have a lot of informants keeping their eyes and ears open. But, to be fair… I didn't leave Astrid alone to do the dishes by herself because I wanted to have an emotional chat about Rapunzel with you two."

A cold so freezing it even bothered _her_ dug its claws into Elsa's heart. There were only two things this could be about: The messages in a cryptic code Merida had told her about, those Hiccup had found after trying to discover who had issued their rigged special assignment, or the murder of her parents. An anxiety made itself at home in her body as she waited for Hiccup to enlighten them, unsure of which option she'd rather be faced with.

"Don't keep us waiting," she muttered, hoping she could stomach whatever news she'd get. What with Hiccup's serious tone, she expected nothing less than a revelation able to knock her out cold.

Hiccup's eyes met hers. "I'm assuming Merida told you about the messages I found?" He waited, watched her nod. "Well, I decoded them. The majority of them didn't seem relevant, but one that got posted recently reeked of suspicion. It's about… A dinner, and taking a key. I think it'll make more sense to you than to me."

Elsa wanted to feel relieved upon hearing her superior wasn't talking about her parents' death, but a new fear flashed before her eyes. A fear that worked its way into her body, wrapped itself around her insides. Her hands shook when she took the small piece of paper Hiccup handed her, his handwriting greeting her as the paper rustled between her fingers.

_Give up on red key. Take spare key instead. Next monday, past seven, Italian dinner. Catalyst instructions will follow._

Her eyes trained on the paper, Elsa didn't even notice Merida reading along over her shoulder until the scent of her hair hit her nostrils. "Didn't you… didn't you say your sister went to an _Italian_ restaurant tonight?"

What the message conveyed hit Elsa like a slap in the face. She was the catalyst, that much she knew, and Merida had been branded a key to the catalyst before, if she recalled her interrogation of the Scot after the incident at the Port well. That made Merida, with her hair of fire, the red key. And that meant the _spare_ key was… was…

With a stern, concerned look in his eyes, Hiccup crossed his arms. "If that's true… You may want to go and check up on this girl. _Now_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our lesbian disasters are no longer disasters!
> 
> Well... Not completely, anyway.
> 
> Feel free to share your thoughts on this chapter or the story in general with me!


	16. Chapter 15: The not-date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Kristoff's not-date doesn't quite go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which pretty much no one is having a particularly good time.
> 
> Except the readers, of course. I always hope y'all have a good time.
> 
> Enjoy!

Being an evil mastermind was _great _fun.

Even though Anna didn't technically view herself as evil. She'd lied to her sister, yes, but that didn't make her some sleazy sinner worth as much as unwashed underwear.

_Was_ unwashed underwear even worthless…? There may have been a fetishist already licking their lips at the mere thought of slamming all their money on the table for just that…

But it wasn't like that was relevant to her original train of thought. Anna scolded herself for letting her mind wander (she wasn't _Merida_, for fuck's sake), and tried to picture Slottsparken in her head. Knowing Elsa, her super spy sister with a curiosity not quite unlike her own, she'd have made her way there not too long after Kristoff had picked the younger girl up to go out for dinner. Which was great, because the latter would have felt guilty for making Merida Dunbroch wait for her in the cold night otherwise.

Had it been morally questionable to tell Merida she wanted to meet up with her and then send her sister there instead without a single word of warning? Anna supposed it was. But in the end, she thought, both Elsa and Merida would see that her setting them up had been for the best. She'd have to wait until after dinner to see the sweet fruits of her labour, but she figured she'd done a decent job at knocking sense into Merida, at least, so she had strong hopes she'd come home to Elsa having some good news regarding her love life.

Elsa would also definitely scold her for her deceitful, aggressive tactical manoeuvering of both Merida and her like pieces on a chessboard, and Anna would see her fair share of terrifying eyebrow game no matter the outcome of her masterplan, but it would all be worth it if she could hear her sister say she and Merida had made some actual romantic progress due to Anna's calculated meddling.

An unpleasant vision made its way into her brain: What if she'd been wrong after all? What if Merida had left before Elsa had even reached her, choosing not to waste anymore time in the cold while she could be having dinner instead? What if Elsa had analyzed her sister's words, figured out she'd been lying, and decided to stay home and watch a movie instead? Or worst of all: What if she and Merida did manage to get drawn to one another, only to end up in a vicious fight and destroy all they'd ever had? 

Anna didn't doubt Elsa would chop her up and serve her for dinner if that happened. Or what if Merida and Elsa grew pissed and wanted to take their anger out on her in some way, while she'd been trying to help and nothing else? And what if there wasn't any progress at all? There was always a chance Anna would come home later that night to hear she hadn't been succesful in changing anything, that the old agreement her sister and her part-time lover still clouded their common sense?

Fact remained, she couldn't quite predict what she'd face after her meal. There was nothing she could do about that, so she shoved her anxiety far away from her and focused on her giddy excitement instead. Goddamn it, she'd hear everything later and accept whichever consequences she'd face, but she still had a not-date to see through 'till the end.

Not that that was a punishment.

When Anna had first gone out to rush to Kristoff and his car in the parking lot, hurrying in her eagerness to meet him, she'd stood stunned and speechless for a bit upon seeing him. He hadn't dressed up for the occasion and had gone for a simple black, short-sleeved T-shirt, which left little to the imagination when it came to his muscular arms, and while the jeans and grey trainers to complete the look didn't quite scream 'fancy', Anna was sure he could've shown up in pyjamas and he still could've looked good. His cologne smelled like cinnamon and mint and something fresh she couldn't place, but it had been effective enough to make her wish she could eat something other than Italian for dinner, namely his-

Ahem.

Some thoughts were simply too hot and unholy to voice.

Whether it had been the sight of him standing there that had rendered her paralyzed or the fact that she hadn't expected to have any such feelings for him, especially not so soon after her catastrophic and ill-fated romantic escapades with Hans, she hadn't been able to tell. All she knew was that chances were high she'd _die _if that scent of his filled his car all the way to the restaurant, and she didn't think there was anyone she'd rather go on a dinner date- _not-date _with.

He'd awkwardly scratched his neck with a slight blush on his face, and his voice had been riddled with nerves when he spoke to her: "Anna, you look, uh… Good?"

And Anna had laughed at that, wondering if the fruity perfume her mother had worn before her affected him like his cologne did to her. "You hesitated," she'd said, a playful jab in his direction, "So now we better have a quality dinner to make up for that."

Her attempt to lighten the mood and break the ice had worked out well, for his reply came easy and the tenseness in his eyes dissolved. "You've never been to Tony's, have you? Their food is even better than it smells."

That had sounded promising, and if it hadn't been a lie, Anna thought as she flipped through the pages of the restaurant's menu booklet, she was in for a great treat. It was a quiet night with few guests, so Anna didn't need to strain to hear Kristoff speak, and they had a small table for two in a corner illuminated by a dim light, which she considered to be quite romantic for a not-date, especially with the tablecloth as red as roses on Valentine's day. The aroma of pasta sauce, garlic and a dozen other dishes and ingredients hung in the air, and Anna's mouth watered more with every second she spent scanning the menu.

"You've been keeping a tight hold on that menu for a while now. Is there nothing on there you like?"

Kristoff's concerned voice snapped her out of all her thoughts, no matter if they were on Mission Merelsa, Kristoff Bjorgman's semi-unexpected levels of sexiness, or the difficulty that came with choosing what to eat. Anna looked up from the menu and blinked a couple times, feeling her stomach churn as she took in the slight worry and insecurity in Kristoff's gaze. Shit, had she made him feel like he hadn't done her a favour by taking her out here tonight? She'd been so lost in her own mind she'd forgotten she had very cute company, which saddled her up with a guilty feeling she supposed she deserved.

"No, no, it's okay," she said in the most cheerful and reassuring tone she could manage. She wanted to see him enjoy himself and have a nice dinner with him, and making him feel even slightly miserable didn't have a place on that list. "There's so much good stuff on here, I'm having a hard time choosing…"

In an attempt to be considerate, Anna wanted to hand him her menu so he could have his own look at it, but she did so with so much enthusiasm she almost threw the booklet at him. Much to her relief, he caught it with only a slight 'whoa' and smiled at her. "If, uh, if you need more time to choose, you can have it. We're not in a hurry, and I'm not that hungry yet."

Lies. The delightful scents drifting from the kitchen and the few dishes on occupied tables had enchanted him as much as they'd done to her. He could say he wasn't hungry all he wanted, but Anna saw otherwise in those soft brown eyes.

"It smells too good here to not want to eat," Anna said, reaching for the glass filled with breadsticks placed in the middle of their table and grabbing one to keep her rumbling stomach quiet for now. "And I guess I figured it out already. Give me some boring, regular spaghetti bolognese and I'll feel happy for the rest of the day."

Kristoff laughed, a sound Anna wanted to savour. "I'm more of a lasagna guy myself, but good choice," he said, looking at her with a smile before catching himself staring and looking away. "And you're right about the smells. Here's hoping the waitress works fast."

Narrowing her eyes in mock-suspicion, Anna remarked: "I thought you weren't hungry?"

He placed the menu down, grinned very slightly. "Did I say so? I don't remember."

It was astounding how much progress he'd made when it came to socializing, Anna noticed as they talked while waiting for their waitress to approach. The Kristoff she'd met when she'd first asked him if he could drive her home had been gruff and anti-social and even a little cold, but while he was still quite grumpy and shy, he'd warmed up to her as they spent more time together and allowed her to see more of his softer, dorkier side. She was still the one who needed to initiate most of their conversations and the one who put the most effort into keeping said conversations alive, but she could see he was _trying_ to be social and at least somewhat talkative, and that thought made her smile and wonder what she craved more: dinner, or more of his pleasant company.

The waitress, a friendly young woman, took their orders with a smile and asked if their date had been fun so far, to which Kristoff turned a bright shade of red and Anna had to stutter that they were on a not-date, a concept the woman seemed to find rather amusing. She told the pair of them that who knew, they might have an _actual_ date at Tony's later, which was a statement that rendered Anna as red as Kristoff, she was sure of it.

They kept talking and laughing and eating breadsticks as they waited, and Anna realized how much she'd been aching for a good time like this one. With large heaps of homework, dealing with her sister's job and meddling in her love life, and also recovering from her own brushes with a good-for-nothing fuckboy named Hans Westerguard, she could use the occasional break. This outing with Kristoff allowed her to slow down and relax, to take a break from all the stress she'd experienced, stress she didn't want to bother Elsa with because her sister's own mental health was also suffering in a myriad of ways. As she sat there, talking and having fun with one of her best friends who gave her the idea he _cared_ about her, she thought she was invincible, and nothing or no one could even try to shatter the beauty of the evening before her eyes.

That was, until she began to feel like there was something very, very _wrong._

She couldn't explain it, but it was a change in _Kristoff _that set her on edge. Something annoyed and suspicious made itself at home in his eyes, hardening his gaze, and he seemed detached as he went in for another breadstick. He munched on it, lost in thoughts Anna didn't understand with his eyes focused on something behind her, and his fingers trembled in what she could only assume to be anger.

"Kris? Are you okay?" She asked, not bothering to hide her concern while her eyes widened. "Are you feeling overwhelmed or something? Do you need some fresh air? Dinner isn't here yet, so we could go outside for a bit if you want to…"

Kristoff's hands clenched into fists. "I'm good," he grunted out, snapping out of his daze and looking her in the eyes, soft brown meeting blue. "But there's… Hans has a lot of brothers, right?"

Out of everything he could've said, that statement was not what Anna had been expecting. The smell of Italian food all around her became sickening quite fast as a cold fear washed through her. Hans? The last thing she needed on a fun night out was to hear he or anyone related to him was near her. If she had to witness him ruin her outing, she'd choke him.

"He has twelve brothers," she answered, fingers curling around her fork and knife tighter, as if she was ready to use them for weapons. "Or at least, that's what he told me. But I don't see why that's relevant now?"

Kristoff leaned forward in a conspiratory fashion, but this time his cologne didn't smell so sexy anymore. All it did was add to her sudden queasiness. "Not to make you feel uncomfortable or anything," he mumbled in a hushed tone, "but don't look behind you. There's this mean-looking ginger who's been keeping an eye on us for a while now, and… I don't know, he may be here to eat and that's all there is to it, but I guess he could be related to Hans. There's no other way I can explain why he's so interested in us."

It was evident in his voice that he wasn't messing with her, that his concern was genuine, but she doubted his theory. She couldn't for the life of her picture Hans still being interested in chasing after her to torment her, not after his nocturnal encounter with her super spy sister and professional murderer Merida Dunbroch. The fear-fuelled apology text she'd received proved her former crush hadn't forgotten about having his ass kicked after a night of heavy drinking, and with the sharpness of Elsa's tongue and the aggression in Merida's eyes, she was sure he preferred to stay far, far out of her general vicinity.

Still, being watched while out to eat in a restaurant wasn't something Anna was used to or considered normal. It _did_ make her feel uncomfortable, frightened, even, as Elsa's words of warning echoed in her head: her sister had sat her down, given her a stern look and told her to be extra cautious wherever she went way too many times after she'd gotten shot. Of course Anna hadn't thrown that to the wind, but for the first time, it dawned on her she may be too close for comfort to the dangers Elsa had tried to open her eyes to.

Ignoring Kristoff's warning and mumbling a 'sorry' under her breath for doing so, she swallowed her nerves and took a quick glance behind her. She hoped to see that Kristoff was wrong; that the staring of the man he spoke of was a mere coincidence, that the guy was just there to eat and nothing more. She was so desperate to reassure her rising anxiety that there was nothing to worry about, she was willing to risk drawing a potential aggressor's attention towards them.

But when she gazed upon the mean-looking ginger, as Kristoff had described him, her heart sank in her chest and she had to stop herself from gasping. While the man was trying to play it cool by pretending to study the breadsticks on his table, she didn't miss how he'd quickly averted his one-eyed gaze from her. And he didn't look like a regular restaurant guest, either: The fancy suit he wore couldn't hide how much he looked like a thug, tall and broad and with scars caused by past violence covering his face. What triggered the alarm bells in Anna's head the most, however, was the eyepatch he wore to hide a missing eye.

She remembered that Elsa had wanted to spill very little information after she'd been shot in order to keep her little sister out of harm's way, but she _had_ told her a thing or two she deemed important over lunch a few days after the incident. Anna had been given a physical description of Elsa's attackers so she could steer clear of the pair in case she ever encountered them, be it on a school trip or in the local supermarket. The thugs, as Elsa had called them, were strong men she assumed to be brothers, one of whom spoke while the other didn't; but their most defining features were sideburns for the speaker, and an eyepatch for the man residing in a state of silence.

Anna's entire appetite vanished into thin air. This thug, Eyepatch, had tried to hurt her sister. It took all of her self control to not get up and march right over to his table to give him an earful. She managed to remain seated, recalling his scarred face and deciding against challenging a man whose fighting skills were bound to be far more developed than hers. But what she did realize, was that there was _no way _that man was at Tony's for dinner. The man had attacked Elsa and was now watching her; how long would it be before he'd come over to yank her out of her chair and take her away, or do unspeakable things to her?

Begging in silence for Kristoff to see the distress in her eyes, she spoke to him in a soft voice: "That man isn't related to Hans, Kris, but we should go outside. Right now."

Her friend pulled a face, scrunching up his nose. "I told you, I don't need fresh air-"

"It's not that," she interrupted, grabbing a handful of breadsticks. It was clear to her they'd have to flee before their meal was served, and damn it, she wouldn't leave on an empty stomach. "That man unsettles me, okay? I know it sounds stupid, but… but I really think we should go somewhere out of his sight."

Kristoff sighed, probably not too keen on leaving without having but a single bite of lasagna, but he didn't protest or try to persuade her to stay. "We can't go through the front door, though," he whispered. The worried look in his eyes would've been endearing if Anna hadn't felt sick with nerves.

"Why not?" All she wanted was to run away as fast as her legs could carry her, the rest of the world be damned.

"Because we haven't paid yet," he hissed, "and every employee and guest will notice we're leaving, including Mr. Cyclops over there. You wouldn't want to leave without having dinner here for no reason, Anna, and it'll look suspicious. If you think that guy will harm you in some way, we have to avoid suspicion at all costs."

Blessed be Kristoff Bjorgman and the sheer venom aimed at Eyepatch in his voice. There was determination in her friend's eyes, a silent promise to keep her safe, and in spite of the smothering air and warmth around them, Anna felt refreshed.

"I didn't come here thinking we'd need an escape route," she admitted, as if other people _did _visit restaurants with such routes in mind. Come to think of it, she wouldn't feel surprised if Elsa and Merida did. But, she told herself, she wasn't a trained secret agent and thus wasn't expected to know every way in which to flee a building. 

Kristoff gave her the slightest nod. "Neither did I, but I've been here for dinner before with my family. The bathrooms are on the other side of the building, and there's a back door next to them. We can get outside from there."

That sounded like as good an idea as any. She held Kristoff's gaze and returned his nod before taking a few deep breaths. In, out, in, out. "Everyone's busy with their food, but we have to be careful. Put up an act."

The slightest misstep could mean she'd suffer, assuming she'd end up tangled in a worst-case scenario. Anna couldn't believe she was about to suggest the idea forming in her mind, and the heat on her cheeks indicated she sported a deep blush. "If… If we pretend to be a couple on a date and we... go to the bathrooms… people wouldn't assume we're leaving, would they?"

People would assume very different things, she realised that much. They'd think she preferred to have herself a piece of _Kristoff _as an appetizer before the Italian main course. She hoped to god no one she knew would see them here, because that would be like taking a sledgehammer and demolishing whatever good reputation she'd had. But the little voice in her head told her it would at least encourage people to look away from them, and that was all that mattered now.

The look in Kristoff's eyes wasn't condemning, which Anna considered to be a good sign. "We're already running from this place without having eaten," he whispered back at her as he stood up. "We can't sink any lower than that."

He stiffened when she stood up too and linked her arm through his, holding on to him as if she couldn't bear to not be as close to him as possible. 

"Sorry," Anna mumbled, "I know this is uncomfortable, but…" She didn't know how to finish that sentence, so she giggled as if she'd made a funny joke and flashed him a bright smile, taking care of the acting so he wouldn't have to. The show was on.

"It's fine. You got the breadsticks?" Was all he asked, glancing at the breadsticks she still clutched in her free hand. His body remained tense, but he did bring himself to move, leading her in the direction of the bathrooms. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and closed it again, his face redder than she'd ever seen it.

Their waitress from before passed them by, and Anna sent her a wink and a smile for good measure. The young woman smiled back, albeit in a bit of an uncomfortable way, but didn't say a word. Kristoff quickened his pace, the scent of Italian food fading as they made their way towards the back of the restaurant. Anna bit her lip, wondering if she'd ever be able to move past this remarkable experience.

"I got the…" She began, coming back to his earlier question, "…bread… sticks?" She froze in surprise when Kristoff halted and lightly pushed her against the wall behind her. Gentle in every way possible, but she hadn't expected it, which led to every word she could've uttered dying in her mouth. She shot him a questioning look.

"Is this okay?" He muttered, his face so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath. That damned cologne hit her full-force again, and for a brief second, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him now. They were acting, nothing more, and it was a step too far for sure, but still she struggled to keep the thought from drowning out her common sense.

Dear god, what was this? Some shitty fanfic she'd ended up in? If it was, the author had a cruel sense of humour.

Forcing herself to focus on anything but his body almost pressed against hers and his lips so close to her own, she glanced past him, eyes searching for Eyepatch. She could see him, staring in confusion with his one dark eye and grunting something unintelligible. Then, he looked away, exasperation and mild disgust written all over his face. Anna figured he was fed up having to deal with horny teenagers, which she could understand. Still, all she felt was relief that he remained in place and made no move to stop them from inching closer and closer to the back door. He was as stupid as he was mute, it seemed. Not that Anna would complain about that.

"He's not looking anymore," Anna said, tightening her grip on her breadsticks as if they were the only thing keeping her sane. "I'm telling you, we should make a run for it _now_."

There was _almost _a hint of disappointment in Kristoff's eyes as he let her go. Or was she imagining it? She couldn't tell, too absorbed by being able to leave the cute restaurant that had turned into such a horrific place. They made for the back door at a quick pace, hoping Eyepatch wouldn't realise his negligence had led to his target escaping, and Kristoff threw the door to the outside world open with such power Anna wondered if he could take the thug watching them on in a fistfight.

When she saw the person standing in front of her there, it dawned on her she'd made a mistake.

"Uh…" Kristoff stuttered, staring at the man as if he'd met an extraterrestial creature. "You don't happen to be related to the one-eyed guy inside, right…?"

Eyepatch's companion Sideburns chuckled at that, leaning back against the wall of the back alley they stood in. "Not important," he stated, almost amused. "All that matters is we're here for Ms. Arens."

Shit. Now she understood why Eyepatch hadn't followed them here; his partner already blocked their sole escape route. Anna couldn't see if Sideburns was armed or not, but he had serious muscle, and now that she saw him up close she wasn't so sure anymore if Kristoff could kick his ass in a fight. The thug was, after all, trained and more experienced in the art of violence.

All she could do was stall.

"We have breadsticks," she blurted, holding them out for Sideburns. "You can have them if you let us go." It was idiotic, but she didn't have a better idea besides running away and hoping they'd reach Kristoff's car before the thug could catch up to them. Slim chance, she thought; If the man could fight, the man could run, and there was always a chance he had a weapon hidden on him somewhere. She'd have to talk herself out of this one, like Elsa had done during their encounter with Weselton on Anna's first day in Oslo.

"Not a chance, sweetheart," Sideburns drawled, cracking his knuckles. "I've got orders to take Anna Arens along for a ride, and I won't say no to my boss. Unless you can offer me more money, of course, but I don't see you pulling out a wallet just yet."

There was no way she could buy her way out of this. Elsa didn't have a lot of money left from her previous assignments, and she herself had been too occupied by everything going on in her life to even consider getting a job in Oslo after moving. Not even the little money she'd saved could help her now.

Kristoff, who seemed about as confused as she had been when coming face-to-face with Elsa after twelve years of believing she was dead, turned to her. "Anna, what's going on here?" He asked, worried and frightened and annoyed at being kept in the dark. "Do you know these guys?"

That information was _classified,_ and she didn't have nearly enough time to explain everything she'd gone through since coming to Norway's capital. Hell, would he even believe her? It was a long and complicated story, one she herself had trouble believing at times. She still woke up some mornings wondering if she'd awakened from a dream, if her life had gone back to normal: she then expected her parents to be sitting in their living room in Bergen with slight smiles, and Elsa to still be dead and gone. But in the end, she always found herself in her sister's apartment and came to terms with the fact that this was _reality_.

"They… They know my sister!" She told him, improvising as she went along. It wasn't even a lie, not yet; Anna figured she could get away with bending the truth here and there. "They, uh… They, they work for rivaling companies, and, uh… They had some conflict not too long ago? You know how it is, right? Work-related issues and all that mess…"

Her voice died down when Sideburns furrowed his brows, glaring. "I'm tired of you already," he growled out, taking large steps towards her and holding out his hands to grab her. Kristoff, on instinct, stepped in front of her to shield her from the hostile stranger, and braced himself to throw hands if necessary.

Anna, lost and scared and with no idea what to do, tried to pull him out of the way, but he was much too tall and heavy for her to get him to move. Unstoppable force meets immovable object. She was about to cry for help, willing to take her chances, when a new voice reached her ears.

"Goddamn, even the circus isn't as much of a shitshow as this fucking joke right here. Not a _single_ step farther in their direction, loser, or I'm going to get pissed."

Never before had Anna been so relieved to hear English tinged with a Scottish accent. _How_ the murderer had gotten to Tony's from Slottsparken or how she even knew Anna was there and in need of aid, she didn't know; all that mattered was that Merida Dunbroch was present in all her terrifying glory. And it was obvious she hadn't come to have dinner, either; the gun she pointed at Sideburns made it rather clear her intentions were less than conventional or innocent.

Sideburns snarled and stepped back, hands in the air to show he wasn't armed. "This is a misunderstanding. I'm not trying to harm her-"

"I don't give a damn what it is you're trying to do, but I'm not having it," Merida cut him off, not a single trace of kindness in her voice. "Unless you want me to pull this trigger, you'll stay right where you are and drop any weapon you have. You should also be very aware of the fact I can kill you faster than you can _blink,_ so don't even think about trying to fuck with me. Understood?"

"I'm unarmed."

"I'll give you the benefit of doubt for now." Merida turned to look at Anna and Kristoff without lowering her gun. Anna didn't think she'd ever seen the woman so pissed and decided to postpone asking whatever had happened in Slottsparken.

"Are you two okay? Not hurt?"

Kristoff could only blink with his jaw pretty much on the ground, too surprised and shocked by Merida's dramatic rescue. It dawned on Anna that, unlike her, he had no idea who the redhead was, and he figured he was being saved by a random Scottish woman with a gun. Thus, she answered for the both of them: "We're fine, but… How… Merida, what are you doing here-"

With another petrifying glare at Sideburns, Merida didn't allow her to finish. "No time to explain that now. Elsa's driving getaway. She's waiting for us in the parking lot."

"You can't do this! You can't kill me!" Sideburns spat. Anna didn't fail to notice how he didn't move an inch, though; with Merida's intimidating act, he was all bark and no bite.

"Please." Merida smirked. "I could consider letting you live if you play by my rules. Here's my plan: Anna and her friend are free to go, and you won't even _breathe _wrong while they're getting to Elsa's car. Once they're there, we can discuss your survival. Cool with you?"

It was certainly cool with Anna, and she tugged on Kristoff's shirt, trying to shake him out of his confused daze so they could make a run for it. Sideburns, however, sputtered: "That ain't a fair plan at all."

Merida shrugged. "I never claimed it was fair. It's up to you, though: You can accept my deal, or I shoot you right now and my problem's solved too. Of course I can't make your choices for you, but if I were you, I'd know what I'd choose."

Hesitating, Sideburns gritted his teeth and glared at the ground. When he looked up again after a few seconds, Anna saw anger and defeat in his eyes. "I don't get paid enough for this shit," he grumbled. Though he looked seething and ready to throw them all off a building, the dangerous edge faded from his voice. "This isn't worth it."

"Thought so," Merida replied, before nodding at Anna and Kristoff and gesturing in the direction of the restaurant's parking lot. "So what are you two waiting for? Go. I'll handle this."

That was something Anna didn't need to be told twice. She took Kristoff's hand and pulled it, signalling for him to move along with her. Her friend was still very much stuck in a state of total shock and had begun mumbling to himself to try and make sense of everything that had just taken place, and Anna wanted nothing more than to get them both to safety.

He came to his senses upon feeling her hand in his and let himself be guided out of the alley, leaving Merida and Sideburns alone to sort out whatever business they still had. Anna walked at a fast pace at first, but it didn't take long for her to start running, Kristoff following behind her. The parking lot, much to her relief, was almost empty, and while her friend gave his own car a longing look, she didn't think it would be a good idea to send him home now, having seen what he saw; his confusion would consume him, and seeing as he'd accompanied her, he may have become a target too.

Her eyed roamed the parking lot, searching for her sister's dark blue car, and she found it soon enough. She didn't know how fast to open the door, and fuelled by adrenaline, she managed to shove Kristoff inside before jumping in after him and slamming the door closed, making herself at home in the backseat.

"Anna!" Elsa turned around from behind the steering wheel to face them, worry evident in her whole body: Her concerned look and her knuckles whitened by her gripping the steering wheel tight gave her stress away. "Are you okay?"

Anna nodded. "I'm fine, but what-"

It was Kristoff who cut her off, forming a coherent sentence for the first time since Merida showed up: "What the _hell_ is going on here!?" He yelled, his distress even greater than Elsa's.

"We'll talk about that in a second," Elsa quickly shushed him, before turning back around to look out for Merida. "Not a single one of us knows for sure at this point, I'm afraid."

Anna realized she was still holding on to Kristoff's hand, but she liked the warmth it gave her and didn't let go yet. Instead, she gave it a reassuring squeeze, looking him in the eye. "It's okay, Kris. We're safe now, and we'll explain everything to you as well as we can, don't worry."

He nodded, staring at their intertwined hands with a blush. "I… I guess…"

It didn't take long for Merida to show up. When she came into view, rushing out of the alley as if her life depended on it, Anna held her breath for what was to come as Elsa started her car and drove towards the redhead. Merida was fast and seemed to run without putting too much effort into it, but when she opened the car's door and pretty much dove into the passenger's seat, she was breathing heavily either way.

"Are you-" Elsa began, but Merida seemed to have a real penchant for not letting people speak that evening.

"All good," she panted, fumbling with her seatbelt before looking Anna's sister dead in the eye. "But you should drive now. Very, _very_ fast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was intense. Any thoughts on this chapter or story in general you want to share with me? Feel free to leave a comment!


	17. Chapter 16: Secrets and ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing like a good car chase to get tension rising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update! I could've had this chapter out much earlier if it wasn't for the trip I'm on giving me little time to write. But here it is!

Anna had been driven to school by her sister a great many times, which had blessed her with plenty of opportunities to observe Elsa on the road. 'There's a lot you can deduce about a person from the way they drive,' her father used to say, gritting his teeth whenever some blithering fool didn't use their blinker. Anna had grasped that little piece of wisdom and taken it to heart.

When they'd drive to school in rush hour, with Oslo's traffic peaking and an abundance of honking, roaring cars trapping them in the occasional traffic jam, Elsa would never, not even once, lose her cool. Oh, she'd glare, that was one thing; Anna had snuck many sideways glances at her out of boredom and didn't fail to notice the cold annoyance in her eyes. But while their father could often be seen with nostrils flaring, mouthing obscenities at whatever poor soul had wronged him on the road, Elsa's fingers wouldn't even twitch. Her face was a mask of ice that wouldn't fall off until they reached their destination, which was something Anna, who cussed out everyone she considered to be on the verge of vehicular manslaughter, admired.

The way Elsa drove now was far, far different from her usual driving.

Far more dangerous.

Anna _thought _they were racing down Fylkesvei 161, but the world around her sped by so fast she wasn't sure. The trees on the roadside became green blurs rustling in the night, and Elsa didn't even stop to let a priest cross the road at the pedestrian crossing they passed. She was muttering curses, eyes roaming over the road ahead in such a frantic way Anna was surprised it didn't hurt, and the temperature in the car dropped to a steady cold, lower and lower, until Anna could feel it bite.

"Anna, are they still following?" There was an urgency in Elsa's voice, a force, as if she'd squeeze the answer out of her younger sister if she had to. It startled Anna, especially when she saw her sister's eyes reflected in the rearview mirror, panicked but cold, shining so blue they almost seemed to glow.

Wasting no time, Anna took a deep breath, swallowing hard. She spun around in the backseat, ignored her seatbelt cutting into the soft flesh of her neck, and squinted to see through the back window of the car. A chorus of car horns blared behind them, brought on by her sister's reckless, rash driving. Anna figured Elsa would find herself neck-deep in fines when they went home after this.

_If_ they ever went home at all.

In the light of street lamps passing by, Anna caught glimpses of their pursuers rushing after them: The crisp white of the Ford Mustang was almost blinding, and the image of the men sitting in it was enough to make Anna feel sick with nerves once more. Sideburns drove, Eyepatch next to him, shadows obscuring their faces, with the darkness receding each time they drove under streetlights to reveal cutting grins, hunter smiles. Were they already placing bets on how soon they'd catch up to their prey, already amused by how laughable their escape attempt was? Anna blinked and averted her gaze as soon as possible, not wanting to look at them anymore.

"Still behind us!" she called out, adrenaline coursing through her body as fast as Elsa's car flew over the asphalt. Her sister groaned in reply, slammed the accelerator, pushed the speed up from eighty km/h to a hundred. Her eyes remained on the road, caught in a laser focus hellbent on survival, and she didn't say a word anymore.

Merida, on the other hand, _did_ put her mouth to good use by speaking. She hadn't been Anna's main concern, even if a part of the younger girl was still dying to know what had happened in Slottsparken between her and her sister, but it had still been clear she'd been fidgeting, her fingers typing away and away on that tiny flip phone of hers. "Hiccup's running damage control," she stated, and her accent seemed thicker because of the stress. "Managed to hack into their phones, sent their boss, whoever that is, a message that they've secured their target. Should be helpful to us, to provide us with more intel."

A flash of anger appeared in Elsa's eyes. Anna could see it clearly in the mirror. 

"Helpful, sure. But right now, I'd rather have him _stop_ them from trying to kill us rather than finding out what their motive is!"

Hold on, what did she say? Anna's throat constricted and her fingers trembled, no longer from the cold and the cold alone. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.

"_Kill_?" Kristoff forced out what she couldn't phrase, eyes wide in fear, a look she wasn't used to seeing on his face. His teeth chattered, and he squeezed Anna's hand a little tighter, as if he saw the limb as a lifeline. "_Please_ tell me that's a joke! And, and what's going _on_ here? Who are you? Who are those guys? This is about as fishy as fishy gets, I swear-"

Elsa bit her lip, swung the steering wheel around for a rough, abrupt left turn. Tires screeched, hurting Anna's eardrums. When Elsa cut her sister's friend off, her voice sounded far, far away, like Elsa wasn't in the car with them but in a whole different dimension invisible to the naked eye. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head so hard it must've made her dizzy. "I, that's not what I meant. We're, we're not _sure_ if they're trying to kill us, but they _are_ trouble, and we better not sit around and wait to hear what they have to say to us. They're not our friends and they're _dangerous,_ and that's all that matters now. We have to lose them, and fast!"

That was, according to Anna, Elsa-speak for 'shut the hell up, no time for questions now'. Nevertheless, Elsa did have a point: they weren't safe until the evil thugs couldn't see them anymore, and even then, it could get tricky. And what if they were killers, trained like Merida, able to snuff out lives with their bare hands as if it was nothing? If that was the case, they were also skilled at tracking down their targets, driven on by a desire for money and blood.

Whatever their intentions were, Anna could feel in her bones it wouldn't be anything good. Elsa was right. They had to get rid of the men, as soon as possible. 

Taking the risk of disturbing her sister's concentration, Anna tapped on Elsa's shoulder, shuddering as she felt the cold of hoarfrost on her fingers. "Take the highway," she suggested, aware that Elsa must've already thought of that, but wishing to be helpful, _useful _either way. "We can drive even faster there, and they might lose sight of us if we're lucky."

Elsa's knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel tighter, her face paler than ever before, but she gave the softest hum of approval as her eyebrows furrowed in dire concentration. The glowing green 'hundred' on the car's digital speedometer climbed up to a steady one hundred and ten. The highway, Anna supposed, it was.

"I should've shot them," Merida mumbled, "should've shot them and left them for the rats. It would've made a mess and too many people would've heard the gun go off, but at least then, we… we wouldn't be in trouble right now."

"This is _not _your fault," Elsa said, and Anna could see in her eyes that she meant it. "There was too much risk in it, and I'd rather have you here than behind bars, okay?"

Merida's typing on her phone never ceased. "Jail serves bad food, anyway," she replied, annoyance evident in her tone. "Or at least, it does in Russia."

Anna looked at Kristoff, who let go of her hand all of a sudden. His mouth was a thin line and his hands clenched into fists. "Everyone's been avoiding my questions so far," he snapped, "but who _are_ you people…" his gaze flicked to Merida. "…And why the _hell _were you in jail in _Russia_?"

Merida snorted. "Fleeing the murder scene went wrong for once because I wasn't fast enough, so the police got to me. But hey, I got out, even though Hiccup shouted at me for a good ten minutes about all the damned paperwork he had to file to free me. Now I don't go to Russia anymore."

To Anna, that confession didn't sound too weird; Merida Dunbroch committing crimes wherever she went wasn't _conventional_, but she was used to hearing about it. Kristoff, however, got slapped in his face by the surprise effect. His eyes widened even more so than before, and she saw him swallow hard. "_Murder_?"

In front of her, she saw Elsa take a moment to pull her gaze away from the road to smack Merida on the arm lightly. "_Don't _put it like that if you don't want him to start screaming."

Kristoff's jaw damn-near dropped to the floor, and Anna worried his blood pressure had skyrocketed somewhere in the past half an hour or so. It became clear to her that Elsa wouldn't divulge all the information her friend wanted anytime soon, focused on the road as she was. That could become an issue. Thus, she decided to take matters into her own hands and faced him, showing him the most reassuring smile she owned.

"It's not as fishy as you think," she began, praying he wouldn't think she was spouting bullshit. "Well, it _kind of_ is, but it's, uh, it's not _harmful_\- no, wait, I don't know that for sure. But, uh…" she pointed at Elsa. "…That's my sister Elsa. She thinks it's nice to meet you... I guess."

"I would've been happier if the _circumstances_ of our meeting were different," Elsa forced out, still sounding less than pleased. "I'm sorry, Kristoff… You're seeing things you don't want to see, getting involved in this mess… You should've been out there having dinner in a restaurant instead of, instead of _this_."

"Uh… Yeah, uh… nice to meet you…?" Kristoff tried, unsure of what to say. Anna saw he held out his hand for a handshake before remembering Elsa was otherwise occupied and pulling his hand back. It was kind of cute- wait, what?

Anna pulled a face, shook that unwelcome thought away. Her brief lustful desires over dinner had been bad enough already. She had to pull her mind up out of the gutter, with force if that was necessary. As a stern reminder for herself to keep her thoughts from wandering, she resumed her introductory spiel: "And that's Merida. She's…"

What _was_ Merida to her and Elsa? Anna still hadn't been given but a single indication of what had gone down in Slottsparken while she was out for dinner with Kristoff. Not that she'd been spying for clues intensively, but she _had_ been sniffing around. Her spying skills, however, paled in comparison to Elsa's, and she hadn't been able to figure anything out in the chaos. Merida was her sister's _friend_ for sure; Anna could tell they hadn't been fighting, or they at least hid it well. But introducing Merida as her sister's fuckbuddy… she didn't believe that would make for a great first impression.

She was about to settle for a rather neutral, detached 'my sister's coworker', when Merida turned around in her seat, mumbling what Anna assumed to be swear words in Scottish Gaelic at her seatbelt while glaring at it. "I'm Elsa's girlfriend," she said, trading her glare for the widest grin Anna had ever seen. 

Girlfriend?

Oh, this was going to be good.

If they hadn't been involved in a car chase right now, Anna would've seen to it that her sister and Merida Dunbroch were subjected to the interrogation of a lifetime. But, she realized, neither woman had time or an appetite for giving her the detailed explanation, what with the chaos they found themselves in. As much as Anna wanted to squeal with excitement and ask a thousand questions, she reigned in her enthusiasm for now and didn't mention it, though she couldn't quite stop the pleased, proud smile from appearing on her face. She'd provided Elsa and Merida with the little push they'd needed, and she was happy the fruits of her labour had turned out so fresh and sweet.

Unlike Elsa, Merida could afford to spare a moment away from whatever she was doing on her phone to hold out her hand to Kristoff after her introduction. The boy wrinkled his nose at the gesture, as if he could smell the blood that was certain to have stained her fingers on many occasions.

"You look a little pale," Merida stated, tone dropping to more serious within seconds, her happiness fading as her eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to kill you. _I'm_ not your enemy. So do me a favour and keep whatever's in your stomach on the inside, yeah?"

Kristoff nodded, shook her hand, but the wariness in his body never left his eyes. He kept his mouth shut tight, and when Merida let go of his hand and turned back to her phone without another word, he didn't know how fast to grab Anna's hand again for comfort. "Anna…"

She realized the look he gave her was one of _concern_, one of confusion. Was the same instinct as the one he'd had after dinner, that desire to make her feel safe, coming over him again? Was he worried for her safety? It wouldn't be without reason; he'd gotten caught up in a car chase and now, still somewhat unbeknownst to him, found himself in the pleasant company of a spy and a trained killer. All of that was a lot to drop on one person out of the blue, and she couldn't blame him for allowing it to turn him into a bit of a mess.

"Try to relax, Kris," she whispered in his ear, the information being for him only. "Merida's intimidating, but not as scary as she looks, and Elsa would probably be making tea for you to calm you down if she wasn't racing us to safety right now. We're fine in here. It's the guys chasing us we need to watch out for."

Her friend opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind, closing it again. He stiffened when Anna rubbed the back of his hand gently with her thumb, flushing a bright red. When he regained control of his tongue, he asked: "but _why _are they after you?"

Anna sighed, looking down. "I… I'm not sure… My dinner being interrupted by men who want to grab me and abduct me isn't a regular occurence in my life, really."

"They want to use you to get to _me,_" Elsa confessed, sounding more distraught than ever. "That much I can see now. They wanted to whisk you away from that restaurant for, for... I don't know… But I'm so sorry, Anna-"

Subconsciously motioning for her sister to calm down, Anna replied, doing her utmost best to sound comforting: "No, it's fine... Well, not _that_ fine, but, I… You… It's not like you wanted this to happen, everyone can see that. Don't worry about it too much."

Elsa scrunched up her nose and raised her eyebrow as if on instinct, like she didn't believe those words and felt disgusted at herself for doing so. Nevertheless, Anna saw her slight nod in the rearview mirror. She hoped her sister wouldn't dwell on it for too long.

"Did we manage to lose them yet?" Elsa asked. It still amazed Anna how quickly she managed to change topics or switch her tone of voice: like a chameleon, blending into a conversation, bending it to her will if she could. So different from Anna's blundering with words. Talking was Anna's cup of tea, not Elsa's, and still Elsa could show more remarkable language skills if she tried, social awkwardness aside.

Thinking it better not to keep her sister waiting, Anna heeded her words, turning her head around once more for another glance out of the back window. She expected to still see the Ford Mustang from her peripheral vision, giving chase like hounds in a hunting party. It wasn't like she had been given many reasons not to fear the worst: whoever these people were, Anna considered herself and those she cared about to be at war with them, saw them as an a enemy, mysterious and dark, strong and intimidating. An enemy that couldn't be shaken off with ease.

But Elsa's abuse of the accelerator had led to the car racing at an impressive one hundred and forty kilometers per hour, zigzagging its way through the highway at breakneck speeds. Whatever strange stroke of luck combined with her sister's apparent getaway driver skills it was, Anna couldn't tell. She didn't want to be able to tell, either: All that mattered to her was that their pursuers weren't in sight anymore, swallowed up by the darkness, alleviating the suffocation she'd felt wrapping around her when they were still hot on her tail. Her excitement growing, a victorious feeling bubbling up in her stomach, she yelled: "they're gone!"

Something sparked in Elsa's eyes, as if someone had forced her out of a heavy sleep and breathed new life into her. She bared her teeth into a slight smile. "Hold on tight," she advised, yanking her steering wheel to the right with force to enter a deceleration lane and leave the highway.

Anna hadn't been prepared for the aggression with which the manoeuvre was performed and slammed into Kristoff's side. Kristoff, in turn, yelped as he got smacked against the window, which led to Elsa sending them an apologetic look in the rearview mirror. While Kristoff rubbed his painful head and Anna tried to keep all of her stomach's contents inside with desperation, Merida didn't even look up from the phone she was focused on, not uttering a single word.

"If they _did _lose sight of us," Elsa said, leaning forward and squinting to see the road ahead of them, still smiling like a prisoner who's had a first taste of freedom, "they might think we're still on the highway, or they at least won't know where we left it. They'll get lost somewhere along the way, and discouraged enough to give up. It's possible we're safe for now."

"For now," Kristoff repeated softly, not sounding so convinced. Anna could see this whole situation still bothered him, that he was still trying to figure out where in the hell his casual dinner plans had gone wrong.

Elsa, still driving fast despite having slowed down, afforded herself the luxury of turning her head to look at Anna and Kristoff. "Did either of you bring a smartphone?" she asked.

Hours earlier, Anna had been too occupied by thinking about food and Kristoff's hot body to even consider bringing her phone to dinner. She'd thought it would be a tad antisocial, too. Now, she didn't regret making the decision to leave the device on her desk. "No," she muttered in reply, and to her relief, she heard Kristoff echo her answer.

Merida's heavy accent entered the conversation. "Good. Means they won't find us by tracking and tracing those." She rubbed her nose, ripped her gaze away from her untrackable flip phone and took a deep breath before continuing: "Hiccup had intel for us."

This grabbed Elsa's attention. The words were enough for her to turn from Anna and Kristoff to Merida in a span of mere milliseconds. With their pursuers biting their dust, she was more open to receiving this Hiccup's help, it seemed. "What does he know?"

Merida sighed. "Well, he's complaining _a lot_ about how he's putting so much on his plate while trying to help us, and that he hopes we'll appreciate it enough to give him a proper greeting next time we meet up-"

"Mer, no offense, but I don't see how Hiccup's pettiness is _intel_."

"The intel," Merida continued, shaking her head as she forced herself to focus on the important details, "is that he's managed to disrupt any and all communications between those creepy-looking guys chasing us and whoever it is they work for. Remember how I said he was pretending to be one of them?

Elsa nodded, and so did Anna, even though the question wasn't aimed at her. She chastised herself for the motion, though that didn't matter, because Merida Dunbroch had eyes for no one but Elsa.

Clicking her tongue, Merida continued: "the big boss or bosses got back to him with another coded message, and I quote: _Bring spare key below the northernmost palace of cold as soon as you can. You'll hear more there."_

Frowning, Anna grimaced, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards into a confused smile. "A palace of cold?" she asked, hugging herself as if she could feel aforementioned cold on her skin. In fact, the temperature in the car might have dropped again; you never knew when travelling with a stressed Elsa.

"I think I know that place," Kristoff said, reluctant, meeting Elsa's icy eyes in the rearview mirror. " My biological father took me to Narvik when I was a kid, not too long before he died. He worked in a skating rink and ice was his life, so… he took me up the North Mountain to visit the Ice Palace."

Ice Palace. That name rang a bell in Anna's head and left a bitter aftertaste. Elsa had told her about it, long ago, when they were both still children and the enthusiastic, happy girl her sister used to be wasn't dead and in the ground yet. If she tried, she could still hear her older sibling speak of the magnificent palace with its mysterious origins and beautiful architecture: part stone, part ice, but all parts equal in greatness.

The twinkle in Elsa's eyes and the hazy smile on her face proved she remembered this place too, though she didn't voice whatever nostalgia it made her feel. "Far away and remote. I think you may be right, Kristoff." She sighed. "It seems both our enemies and our answers are to be found up north."

"So that's where we're going?" Merida asked curiously. "Nice. I've never had any jobs up there, so I'd like to do some sight-seeing."

Elsa snorted. "Oh, yes, let's try some gruesome local cuisine while we're at it, too. This isn't a vacation, Mer. We're not going sight-seeing."

"Oh, come on, your country's breathtaking. I'm sight-seeing with every single step I take, I'm telling you."

That bickering, according to Anna, could have gone on for a good ten minutes if Kristoff hadn't put an end to it by speaking before Elsa could even open her mouth to reply: "Uh… Scary ladies? I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but does that mean we're not going to be back in Oslo by, like… tonight? Or even tomorrow?"

Resignation was already evident in his voice: Kristoff knew the answer to his question, but refused to face the truth just yet. And Anna knew it too: it would be a while before they ate at their own tables or slept in their own beds again. Wherever it was they'd end up, it wouldn't be home.

Anna was sure it didn't come as a surprise to either of them when Elsa answered, almost fearful: "I'm, I'm sorry, but that's not going to be possible. You see… it's not safe. They'll know where to find us… Merida, me, and you, Anna, and I think you too now, Kristoff… So we can't go back to Oslo. Not now. Not until we know more about what we're dealing with."

"Road trip to Narvik it is," Merida stated, making herself comfortable in her seat and smiling, as if already looking forward to the gruesome local cuisine Elsa had mentioned. "Not what I expected to be on the programme, but it could be worse. I'm not complaining."

'Expect the unexpected', Anna had told herself ever since Elsa left her for the first time: The sight of policemen at her parents' door, drinking water to stay functioning in the summer heat and speaking of her sister's death with words that hit her full-force, was something she couldn't have expected, something that couldn't be anything but the most horrid surprise of a lifetime. And Anna, at the young age of five, with that memory seared into her brain and playing on repeat in her nightmares, hadn't ever wanted to face the unexpected again. The curious nature she'd possessed before only grew, her desire to know all about her surroundings swelling, so she could be aware of all she could expect.

She still liked the unknown, in a way: there was something exciting about never knowing if she'd plunge herself into light or darkness, about never knowing _how_ her lust for adventure would be satisfied. And she preferred the light, of course, hut she could handle darkness, armed with the knowledge she could work hard and create her own light with her bare hands if she had to. But all of that didn't mean the unknown and the unexpected, deep down, didn't scare her.

After years of being able to say with pride that she'd avoided being faced with unpleasantries such as her older sister's unforeseen death, the police had shown up at her door _again_, disturbing her while she tried her hand at homemade pizza, and she'd been informed of the fact her parents had had an accident. And when she'd met Elsa for the first time after that and agreed to go with her, her sole tiny source of light in the whirlwind of darkness she'd been thrown into yet again, she'd been reminded in the harshest way possible that the unexpected _always _waited to strike. And she'd feared it, yes; but she'd hidden that fear away in the dankest chamber of her heart and locked it up there, pushing her excitement to the foreground instead, facing everything new with the natural curiosity and positivity she'd been blessed with at birth, not allowing the tainted corruption of a fear she'd been branded with in that one crucial moment when she was five to ruin her new life for her.

Now, Anna did what she did best: she got rid of her fear of what was to come, pushing it away to a forgotten part of her soul where it would hopefully die out, and told herself she would be fine. As always, she needed to look at things from the bright side: she was alive and safe, for the most part, and so was Kristoff, who'd given her more affection than she'd ever hoped to dream because of their not-date going south; and Elsa was fine, stressed but okay, and she was dating Merida now, which proved Anna's plan had _worked_, and they could be happy together, sometime, when this was all over.

Ever since she'd arrived in Oslo with Elsa, there had been trouble: though she'd gotten used to the weirdness surrounding her, Anna had never seen her life as normal. And yet, she'd stomached every hardship and obstacle life dished out for her, from Hans' cruel words to the persistent secrecy in Elsa's silent eyes. This whole mess was yet another obstacle she had to face and she knew that. But now, she had Elsa, the sister she loved and trusted, and Anna was sure they could make it through this and emerge victorious. Together.

"I can't picture us reaching Narvik all that quick," Kristoff interrupted her thoughts, chewing on one of his fingernails contemplatively. Anna could see that he, not much unlike her, felt like it was best to accept their fate and get it all over with as fast as possible. "Even if we take turns driving the whole time, it'll still take up a full day… At least. And then I'm not even taking traffic, the weather and the roads we're driving on into account."

Merida hummed. "Hiccup can stall those guys from before far longer, so chances aren't _that_ high they'll catch us heading North. Takes a real good tracker to find us now, and we wouldn't have to hurry up, then. But if there's more people like them keeping an eye on us, it might get troublesome…"

A thin layer of frost formed on Elsa's steering wheel; Anna prayed Kristoff didn't see it. "It all depends on whether or not these people can figure out how much we know about them and their work tactics," her sister mumbled, eyes still trained on the road ahead of her. Silence fell, until she continued: "But they won't find too much overnight. That buys us time. And time… time means… We can drive to Bergen first."

Wait, what?

Pulling a face, Merida replied: "Bergen? They serve this awful dish called Rakfisk there. I swear, that shit does not make you happy when it's placed before you…"

But Merida's horror story about Norwegian seafood fell on Anna's deaf ears. She blinked, slowly, thinking, a realization beginning to dawn on her like a kick to the teeth. Bergen? The city that had been her home for the vast majority of her life? It would be a detour, not even close to the route to Narvik. There was only one reason she could think of for Elsa to want to go there. A reason she didn't like at all.

"Elsa, hold on a second." Her hands shook, though she didn't want them to. "I don't see how going to Bergen will benefit us in any way."

Elsa winced at her suspicious undertone. The temperature in the car dropped further. "We're going to go see Kai and Gerda there. Get them someplace _safe. _And you and Kristoff are going with them."

She couldn't be serious there, right?

This wasn't okay. She was supposed to help her sister, wasn't she? They could get through this together so much better, and Elsa wouldn't even give her a _chance_…?

Elsa would abandon her in Bergen.

Elsa _would_.

But Elsa couldn't abandon her like this and run off to do whatever she felt she had to do.

Not again.

Anna wouldn't let it happen, if it was the last thing she did.

"Someplace safe…" Kristoff mumbled, sounding somewhat eager; she figured he didn't mind the idea of being kept out of harm's way. And why would he mind, anyway? He couldn't see what Anna saw, didn't face the panic she felt coursing through her body, so fast and hard it made her nauseous. He didn't know what Elsa had done in the past, hadn't experienced the pure heartbreak Anna had had to deal with so many times. He couldn't understand what it was like to be dismissed by someone you'd give up _everything_ for. He couldn't know what it was like to be left alone in the dark.

So Anna laughed, even though her stomach was doing backflips, even though the memory of waking up and Elsa being _gone_ (but she'd promised, hadn't she? Elsa had promised, countless times when they were carefree little children, that she'd always be there and that they'd be together forever) flashed through her mind. She laughed as if Elsa had made the funniest joke of a lifetime, though there was _nothing _funny about this. Nothing at all.

"There's no way in hell," she said, glaring daggers at Elsa's back, "I'll let you get rid of me so easily. I'm _not _going to laze around Kai and Gerda in Bergen when you're out here in _danger_, Elsa. Not even if you bribe me with chocolate."

Elsa stiffened in her seat upon hearing those words and the determination in them. She looked confused for a split second, but ice crept into her gaze soon enough. Anna could feel them cutting through her in the rearview mirror. 

"You seem to believe this is up for discussion, but it's not. You don't know what we're getting into, _I_ don't know what we're getting into, but Merida and I were trained for this, and you _weren't_. This isn't your problem."

With a snort, Anna snapped: "It became my problem when I almost got abducted during dinner earlier! You _can't _lock me away in Bergen, Elsa! Do you even know what that _feels_ like?"

Her attention was grabbed by Merida, who'd turned in her seat to give her an apologetic look and a wordless plea to knock it off. But Anna wouldn't be doing anything of the sort, not now. Her nostrils flared, along with her anger. She'd been anything but impatient with her sister for a long time, and what had she been given in return? _What?_

She knew what she'd received. Chocolate pancakes to keep her quiet and content, questions without answers. A sibling surrounding herself, even after all this time, with impenetrable walls of cold. Secrets and ice. In that moment, she was convinced Elsa had offered her _nothing_ more.

Elsa's eyes only seemed to grow colder as she bared her teeth in frustration. "I'm not locking anyone away. I'm _protecting _you and you know it. You might not like it, but it's... it's for the best. Don't be unreasonable about this, please."

"Oh, _I'm_ the unreasonable one?" Anna laughed again, more hysterical this time, not even caring if everyone in the car was looking at her as if she was insane. This was the final straw. She'd tried so hard to get anywhere with her sister and saw it reciprocated so rarely, and she was done, done with accepting it, done with questions without answers, done with the constant wondering if the one family member she still had left even gave much of a damn.

_I'm protecting you._ That's what it always was, wasn't it? But it sounded like a lie. An easy reason for her sister to dismiss her once more. Elsa could pretend to care all she wanted, but if she really _did_ care, she'd have given Anna answers regarding her disappearance long ago.

Hell. If Elsa _really_ cared, she wouldn't have disappeared in the first place.

Merida had been wrong. Elsa wouldn't do anything for her. Elsa hadn't even _stayed_.

"Look," Elsa began, her tone somewhat warmer, though the temperature in the car dropped so low Anna heard Kristoff's teeth chatter again. "It's been a stressful night. Your dinner didn't go as planned, and I'm sorry for that, I _am._ But I… I don't want to risk getting you into dangerous situations like that one again, so you and Kristoff going to Bergen is final. For now… please relax."

Relax? Oh, the _audacity_. Anna had backed down often, but there was no way she was doing that now. The one thing that was final was that she'd tell Elsa _exactly_ how she felt about this and many, many other things.

"Stop this car, Elsa."

Even sweet little Anna Arens could be intimidating, especially if she threw in her most practiced but little-used glare. She'd give Elsa a piece of her mind, consequences be damned.

Elsa, likely unsure of how to feel about her sister's hostile tone and demand, frowned. "Anna, what-"

"I said stop this car, Elsa, _right now_."

No one other than _Merida Dunbroch _looked uneasy at the aggressive, no-nonsense statement, and if even Merida was taken aback, Anna didn't even want to imagine how Kristoff and Elsa felt right now. Elsa's expression shifted to one of complete neutrality: a stone mask Anna couldn't read, devoid of any and all negative and positive emotions. But, be it out of fear or _some _remnant of affection still left in her, she did follow Anna's order.

Certain conversations in Anna's life were long overdue. Now, she'd force the answers she wanted out of her sister if she had to. But she wouldn't be walked over or hurt or abandoned again, not if she had a say in it. Whatever this conversation with Elsa would lead to, she'd make every word count and every answer _satisfying_, goddamn it.

And after that, Anna thought grimly, there would be no more secrets and ice, and nothing would ever be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up your seatbelts, kids. It's time for drama now.


	18. Chapter 17: Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna tries to get the answers she's been waiting for.

In spite of Anna's demand to have the car stopped right away, Elsa did not slam the brakes the moment it was asked of her. Granted, it would have been dangerous to come to a halt in the middle of the road, even if it was a quiet, chilly autumn night and no other cars could be seen or heard out on the road. There was always the risk of some maniacal speed demon coming out of the dark and crashing into their vehicle, and Anna didn't fancy a mouth full of steel and a body filled with broken bones. In that regard, she understood Elsa's decision to keep driving. And yet, it got under her skin, burrowing in and festering there.

They drove until they reached a pullout where Elsa could park their car safely. They left the road in silence, tension tangible in the air between them. Anna bit her nails, keeping her eyes trained on Elsa's in the rearview mirror, never allowing that icy gaze to escape from her. Her sister had been running away for so long. Today, Anna thought to herself, she wouldn't. Anna wouldn't let her. But first she had to wait while Elsa concentrated on parking, and the silence stretched on, no one willing to break it. Kristoff avoided looking at anyone at all, and Merida showed a sudden interest in studying the breadsticks Anna had brought from the restaurant that now sat in the side pocket of her car door.

If Elsa felt any anger directed at her at all, she didn't show it. After racing to get away from their pursuers and making it to safety, her driving had reverted back to its old, composed style, every rule of the roads being followed with impeccable control. If Elsa remained as tight-lipped all throughout the conversation Anna planned to instigate, she was afraid she wouldn't see any overdue explanations and answers to her questions anytime soon.

The car didn't stop abruptly, but Anna still noticed the disappearance of motion, which hit her like a well-timed uppercut to the face. There was no way back now. The silence became heavier. Anna narrowed her eyes at Elsa, an action her sister couldn't miss in her mirror, as if taunting her to say something, anything.

Repulsive as Elsa may have found the idea of a confrontation, she did take the bait. "This car is now stopped," she stated, her icy expression foreboding, her tone implying a certain preparedness to metaphorically strangle all potential defiance living within her sister. "As you… _demanded_."

Whether it was intended or not, Anna didn't know, but how Elsa said it rubbed her the wrong way. It sounded… accusatory, or… Or _mocking_, that was a better word. Or perhaps that was simply what Anna wanted to hear. Something to justify the rage taking hold of her, lighting a fire in her eyes that could scare away a wild bear if she wanted it to.

"Can I talk to you?" She forced out, hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms until it hurt. It took all her willpower not to shout, to keep her voice steady and refrain from emotional outbursts. She wondered how Elsa did it all the time.

"We _were _talking." Elsa's gaze never wavered. "In the car. While driving. I don't see why I needed to stop just now. Not to enjoy the scenery, I hope, and there isn't a conveniently-placed café here to discuss the meaning of life in either."

Anna could have punched someone. "Spare me your sarcasm. I want to talk to you _alone_." She continued to stare her sister down, showing her she wouldn't cave and that there wouldn't be any leaving this place until she got the audience she requested.

She got the idea Elsa would rather drop her off at the nearest McDonald's and leave her there than partake in the one-on-one conversation Anna had invited her to. She saw the hesitation creep into her sibling's features, tried to imagine whatever inner turmoil she went through and prayed for an outcome beneficial to her. 

When Elsa opened her mouth to reply after too long a silence, Anna held her breath. "_Fine_. If it doesn't take too long, that is. If Sideburns and Eyepatch somehow got back on our track again, I want to be gone before they see us here."

Anna didn't think that would happen, but she understood the point. She couldn't be pissed at the clipped reply either way; Elsa had agreed to a conversation, and that was all she'd wanted to hear. 

Now all she still had to do was bait and hook her sister into allowing her to tag along and giving her answers, and then she could sleep peacefully tonight. 

"Awesome," she said as she unfastened her seatbelt and swung her car door open to step out into the night, but she couldn't bring herself to put any gratitude into the word. She had enough of this night already and couldn't wait to be swallowed by sleep soon.

"Me and Kristoff will keep an eye out for unwelcome visitors," she heard Merida say from the car when she left it, the words aimed more at Elsa than at her. 

It dawned on her that she should have taken her breadsticks along, lest they fall victim to a bored and hungry redhaired murderer, but it was already too late to lament their likely loss. It was confront-your-elusive-sister-with-her-bullshit hours now. She hoped Kristoff would understand and that he wouldn't be angry with her for leaving him alone with a woman he'd been rather wary of. She figured she could deal with that when he told her of it later, _if _he'd been bothered by her actions at all.

For now, she focused on Elsa, who'd gotten out of her car too and made eye-contact with her, wordlessly asking what she wanted. Anna took a deep breath, let the scents of asphalt and pine in the air intermingle and envelop her. God, she could use a drink for this, something to give her the courage and strength to power through this night. She wasn't much of a drinker, but she'd tried vodka with friends before and found herself longing for the boost of excitement it gave her, along with the feeling that she could rule the world.

But there was no use in dwelling on what she didn't have and feeling sorry for herself. She had to focus on the here and now, where Elsa was waiting for her while muttering under her breath. Anna made a point of scanning her surroundings, searching for a proper place to talk.

The road they'd left behind sat on the right side of the pullout, and the left side was lined with pine trees, standing tall and proud in the night, the rustling of their branches ominous in the dark. Anna tried to look into the forest they belonged to, but failed to make out anything at all in the thick blackness the woods bathed in. On the right side of the forest where its edge was located lay a field, smelling vaguely of freshly-mowed grass and with a cold edge to it due to its moonlit illumination. And near the edge of the woods at the far end of the pullout, in front of the field, a large pile of logs rose into the night sky, casting dangerous shadows on the pullout's asphalt.

Uncanny as it was, Elsa seemed to sense that her gaze rested on the logs, and sighed. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm walking over to that pile." 

She turned away from Anna, gesturing for her to follow, and started on her way to the logs for whatever reason she had. A quote Anna had seen online often came to her mind: 'If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.'

That must've applied to Elsa in this moment. Anna considered asking her, but decided it wasn't important, instead focusing on burning holes into her sister's back with her eyes as she followed at a steady pace.

"You can come walk next to me, you know," Elsa said, slowing down a little to let Anna catch up. Her voice softened ever so slightly. "It's not like I'm… Like I'm… _dangerous_ or anything."

Somehow, Anna thought there was more to that statement, an addition Elsa had left out. She was tempted to ask, deeming it reasonable seeing as she'd already set out to bare Elsa's soul to her anyway, but she decided against it, not wanting to waste the chances she'd create for herself so soon by clamping down too fast.

She found herself walking along next to Elsa, the sound of gravel crunching beneath their feet filling the night. They didn't speak. Anna closed her eyes, inhaled sharply, and took the first step to getting the ball rolling: "Elsa… I'm serious about not wanting to be left in Bergen. You can't do it. I won't let you."

Elsa stiffened, gritting her teeth. "I said this wasn't up for discussion. You know how I feel about this." Her voice grew harsher again. "You _also_ know that I won't change my mind. Not now, not after we're done here."

Glaring at her sister, Anna huffed. "You're going to shove that bullshit down my throat again, aren't you? That this is for my own good? That everything you do is to protect me?"

They reached the pile of logs and came to a halt. A cutting silence descended upon them again, hanging heavy in the air.

"It's not bullshit." Elsa inspected the logs and felt around on the wood for wetness or bugs, then pronounced it a safe spot with a hum of approval and sat down. Her gaze met Anna's. "It's the truth. I told you, this is dangerous. More so than you realize. What part of 'I don't want you anywhere near armed men capable of murder targeting us' is it that you don't understand?"

Anna swallowed hard. "I _do _understand. And I can handle that danger, Elsa. I _can_. But you know what I can't handle? You shoving me aside again. Like I'm not important to you. Like you don't care about what I have to say."

To Anna's delight, this startled her sister. She watched Elsa's eyes widen. "You… Anna, you know that's not true, right? You're more important to me than anything." She bit her lip. "Which is _exactly_ why I don't want you anywhere near this whole mess."

On any other day, this would've reassured Anna. But today, she was far gone, and the words felt shallow above all. Empty. No meaning attached to them. She narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Oh, I'm important to you?" She laughed. "That's funny. Because you left me and Mom and Dad behind and had us believe you were dead, and that was _devastating_, you know, more so then you can ever understand. And after twelve years, after our parents' funeral, you show up and promise to take care of me, and yet you _still_ haven't given me any answers as to why you left in the first place, and you _still _make it difficult for me to get close to you. And after that, after _all _of that you've put me through, you want to ditch me again because I'd be a _nuisance _to you if I came along. A liability. Someone who gets in your way."

Elsa remained quiet, and Anna wondered if she'd bitten off and swallowed her tongue. She'd averted her eyes somewhere in the middle of Anna's speech, which the younger sister saw as a confirmation of guilt, and stared at the ground, maybe counting pebbles or grains of sand, zoning out.

"So if it's the same to you," Anna continued, "_please _tell me how I can be important to you, how Mom and Dad could be important to you, when you left us alone without a word and keep your distance even now and _still_ refuse to even tell me _why_? It's my _right _to know!"

"I'm sorry-"

"And for the love of God, stop apologizing, okay? I get it! You've done it a thousand times! But it's not enough. It isn't. Why can't you see that?"

Elsa wrung her hands together, trying in vain to rub the frost off of them, but the cold refused to let its mark be swept away. "This isn't about Bergen," she mumbled, summarizing what Anna said to herself rather than speaking to her sister. "This is about more. This is about _everything_. This Bergen thing is just the last straw. The final push you needed to unleash that anger you must've been harbouring for weeks now."

The only thing Anna could do was nod at that, because it was true. She realized that now. "Look me in the eyes, Elsa. _Look at me_. If I'm as important to you as you claim I am, you can tell me now why you abandoned us twelve years ago. I'll take that. It's all I ask of you."

"I… I…" Elsa lifted her gaze, made eye-contact with her sister with great reluctance, and the guilty, _scared _look in her eyes almost made Anna take back everything she'd said before. 

What was she damaging by spilling all her anger on her sister? How far could she go? Did it matter, anyway? They'd gone past the point of no return. There was no way out now.

"It's… I… I should tell you. I should."

Anna would have been rejoicing and dancing around in triumph if it hadn't been for the hesitation in Elsa's voice. The fragility. The lack of conviction. She didn't dare get her hopes up, lest she found them shattered around her, jagged-edged pieces encircling her on the ground.

She watched her sister look away from her yet again. Elsa's eyes drifted to her hands, the pale white of them covered in the blue hue of ice. "I'm… I'm sorry… and I'm also sorry for… For apologizing again when you told me not to.. But… I can't. I can't tell you. Not now."

Even with her hopes down, it felt like Elsa had taken up a knife, stabbed her in the heart with it and twisted it in a sickening display of cruel sadism. Anna's voice faltered. "Wha... What?"

Elsa sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "What you want is a revelation. You want me to make this all right by telling you. But that's… That conversation… I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry. But I can't have that conversation tonight. It's too much."

_It was all I asked of you, Elsa_...

"So that proves my point, doesn't it?" Anna hissed, forgetting all about tact and patience, abandoning those like Elsa did to her. "You don't care. You never care. If you did, you could tell me this _one_ simple thing that's important to me. But you're just… You're _cold_."

She knew that was harsh, but she couldn't help herself. She had to embrace her darkest thoughts now, couldn't keep them inside her any longer because they'd consume her, destroy her, eat away at her sanity until there was nothing left. She'd given her sister so many chances; it wasn't her fault Elsa never bothered to take them.

Much to her surprise, Elsa shot up, abandoning her spot on the logs to face Anna properly and stare her down, all previous aversions to eye-contact forgotten. Something sparked in her eyes, a light, bright and blinding and _cold_, formed out of crooked shards of ice. Anna shivered. The wind grew colder as snowflakes began to swirl around her sister, slow at first, but increasing in speed with each passing second.

"Don't say that," Elsa spat right back at her, "because it's not _true_. I _do _care about you. I know we got off to a rough start, but I did my best for you, I _did_, and I'm still doing that. I helped you wherever I could, didn't I? I tried to protect you. I did whatever I thought would be good for you. I'd sacrifice my fucking life for you if I had to! But there's matters I can't talk about right now with all of this, this _chaos _going on, and if my best isn't good enough for you, I'm _sorry_. But don't pretend I'm the devil while I'm not."

"What difference does it make," Anna shouted, unintimidated by the storm her sister was the eye of, "when everything you did for me, from taking me to live with you to driving me to school, was just a lousy attempt at apologizing to me to make yourself feel better about doing what you did to me? If you _truly_ cared, you'd have told me what I've been aching to know by now. Goddamn it, Elsa, it's so _simple_!"

"It's _not _simple. It's _never_ been simple. Do you want to know why I can't tell you? Do you? Because you'd _hate _me. You don't realize it yet, but if you knew what I knew, you _would._"

The fire in Anna's eyes flared up, scorching everything in its path. "Then you might as well tell me, because I already do _just_ that!"

It was a heat of the moment statement. She didn't mean it. Livid as she was, Anna could _never _hate her sister in spite of all the bullshit she'd been put through. But she'd already blurted it out before she could stop herself. Regret rushed through her straight away and she clamped her hand over her mouth to refrain from speaking more unfortunate, impulsive words, but the damage had already been done.

Elsa's storm stilled. It fell away abruptly, leaving pathetic little piles of snow around them. Under normal circumstances, Anna would've seen it as a sign that Elsa had calmed down. A good sign. But there was nothing good about this. She'd shut her sister down with one single, devastating sentence, and it had left them with an empty silence.

"Elsa..." _I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, forget about it, I didn't mean that._ But instead of forcing her racing thoughts out, she remained paralysed, shocked by the words that had left her mouth. And Elsa stood there, quiet, pondering, staring at the ground with a frown on her face and shock in her eyes.

It dawned on Anna that there was a chance they'd fucked up everything now. And if that was the case… could they _ever_ get past this?

"Right." Elsa straightened up, and Anna did _not_ like the look in her eyes. It was blank. Empty. Devoid of all light that had once been in there. "That's okay. If I were you, I'd do the same."

_No, it's not okay, Elsa, how can that ever be okay?_

Anna cleared her throat. "I didn't mean that," she uttered, her anger slowly ebbing away to slip back into its dark corner again. She was sick of this. Sick of fighting. Sick of trying and hoping for a good result. All she wanted was for this horrible night to end.

The sad smile creeping onto Elsa's face broke her heart. "Except you did. And I understand."

No. No. This wasn't happening.

Anna would turn back time in a heartbeat if she could, to shut herself up before she could let the words slip, to knock herself out if that was what it took. But she couldn't turn back time and was left with naught but the bitter taste of regret as she felt a cold that may or may not have been Elsa's wrap her heart in ice.

Her sister turned away from her, quietly, facing the forest with its deep darkness and sickening scent of pine. A bad case of déjà vu fought its way into her brain; she hadn't been there to witness it, but she _knew_, knew that Elsa had left without a word twelve years ago, fading away into the shadows of similar woods to never return. She pictured that, saw it ready to happen again in the present, and fell prey to a certain fear.

"I… I'll be back in a second.".

She couldn't get very far, could she? Anna asked herself that question while Elsa picked up her speed, moving closer and closer to the trees and the dark.

_Would you look at that? She's running away. Again._

Anna wanted to run to her, stop her, drag her back kicking and screaming if she had to. She reached out for her sister, tired fingers twitching from the cold, mouth half-open in a silent plea, but she couldn't move. She couldn't move because she had no right to Elsa's time after what she said. Because she'd done something _horrible _to someone she loved as of now. And, added the darkness in her soul, still revelling in her simmering anger which had been pushed to the background without dissipating, because Elsa couldn't do anything _but _run away, and if she wanted to do that again… Who was Anna, the naive younger sister, to stop her?

Anyone else would've stumbled among the trees in the dark, would've been followed by the noise of snapping twigs and crunching leaves. But Elsa Arens was a spy, trained in blending in with her surroundings, moving with the shadows as if it was second nature. If she wanted to disappear, vanish into thin air, she would.

And she did.

And Anna stood alone in the night.

Her first instinct was to run after her sister anyway, even though she knew she'd missed her chance now. Racing recklessly into the forest now wouldn't do her any good. In a best-case scenario, she'd trip and fall and get a mouth full of dirt and earthworms. Worst case, her inner GPS would fail her and she'd get lost and torn apart by wolves.

She couldn't have that. She had to calm down and collect what little was left of her rationality now. She hadn't come here with Elsa and Elsa alone. Kristoff was with her, too, and so was Merida. Yes. They'd be able to help her find a way to fix this. She spun around, regaining the use of her legs, and dashed towards Elsa's car.

Run she did, her conflicting feelings still gnawing at her soul, threatening to split her mind in two. She was torn, torn between anger at Elsa, anger because she refused to talk, because she ran away _again_, and guilt, _guilt _for saying terrible things she didn't mean. By the time she reached the car, she was panting and exhausted, both in the physical and the mental sense. Her eyes found Merida's; the murderer, she saw, had gotten out of the car, likely alerted by the commotion, and leaned against the car's hood, an analytical look on her face with which she scrutinized Anna. She nibbled on a breadstick, too. Anna's initial hunch had been right.

Kristoff had remained inside, but he'd rolled the window down and leaned out of it, looking Anna up and down with wide eyes. "Anna… Are you, are you okay? That was… That was…"

"Snow," Merida added, voice blank. "That was snow. It's a long story."

"Yeah. It's… I…" Anna swallowed hard. "I'll, I'll tell you more. Later." She turned to Merida, pleading for help with her eyes. "Merida, she… she left. Just like that."

Merida shrugged. "I'm aware. It was kind of hard to miss." A car sped by on the road behind them, headlights illuminating the night. Merida fell silent, eyes following the vehicle to make sure it was nothing suspicious, before she continued: "I don't know what just went down between you two, and I won't ask you right now. It's not my business and it won't help us a bit either. What I _do_ care about, is that we're stuck here out in the open as long as Elsa's gone. And that's inconvenient when we're on the run and following a lead all the way to the other side of the country, don't you think?"

That wasn't something Anna could disagree with. "It... It escalated. I'm not proud of what I said. Elsa didn't deserve it." _Or did she? _Anna's hands clenched into fists and she narrowed her eyes at the ground. "But I'm also so _pissed_ at her, you don't even know how much. I can't believe how difficult she is, I swear."

"That sucks, Anna," Kristoff told her, "it does. But I'm kind of with Miss Dunbroch on this one. We've been out in the open here for a while now. It's time to go."

Merida snorted with a laugh, her previous stern annoyance fading. "Respectful, but drop the 'Miss Dunbroch' thing. Makes me feel old."

"You _are_ old," Anna deadpanned. "With Elsa gone, you're the oldest person here. You're our adult supervision now."

She saw Merida frown, watched an awkward smile break out on her face. The redhead scratched the back of her neck with a sigh. "Well, shit. That's right. Seems like I'm in charge, then."

Had the circumstances been any different, Anna would have voiced her disapproval; not because she doubted Merida's leadership skills, but simply because she didn't like being told what to do. She could follow orders if she had to, but she still liked seeing for herself what the best course of action was, making her own choices wherever possible. But she was tired now, exhausted and hungry and left empty by her anger at Elsa, her disappointment in her, and her disgust at herself for saying what she'd said. She didn't mind Merida making her decisions for her now.

"What are we going to do?" Kristoff's eyes darted from Anna to Merida, back to Anna and to Merida again. "I'm still not sure what the _hell_ is going on, but this is a mess and I want to get out of it. Tell me what to do. I can start by taking another look at the road map, if that's useful?"

Merida's eyes lit up and she shoved the last bit of her breadstick into her mouth. "You know what? I feel like you may be onto something. Say, can you hand me the map and the last breadsticks?"

Kristoff complied without complaining. Anna watched him reach for a road map, which had migrated to the passenger's seat in her absence, and when he held it in his hands, he grabbed the last few breadsticks left from the side pocket they'd been kept in. He then leaned out of the window again, holding his treasures out for Merida to take.

"Thanks," Merida said, eyes skimming over the map when she took it. She took a bite of one breadstick and apparently felt generous enough to gift Anna the other one, which the younger girl was grateful for.

Anna was already devouring her one measly breadstick, when Merida turned to her. "While you and Elsa had your little heart-to-heart," the redhead began with a bit of an irked look, "your boy Kristoff and I killed some time by figuring out where we are. And that's _here._"

Squinting to see in the dark, Anna leaned forward for a better look at the map, trying to find the word Merida's finger pointed at. She was about to ask the woman if she could just _tell_ her where they were instead of having her figure it out for herself, when her eyes got used to the dark and she could read the location's name. 

"Hallingby," she read aloud, savouring the last bite of her breadstick. "It doesn't ring a bell. I don't think I've heard of it. It's not a big city, right?" She was acquaintanced with _Oslo_ by now, but she'd spent the largest chunk of her life in Bergen, hundreds of kilometres away in the west of the country. She had to admit she didn't know much about the region she found herself in.

To her relief, Merida shook her head. "It's a village. Not even a thousand inhabitants. Pretty, but the most exciting thing there is the church." She smiled. "But I've been there before, for a job. I won't go into details, but I know a thing or two about the place, and I have an idea."

Kristoff took the map back. "Let's hear it, then."

"Oh, I'll tell you." Merida straightened up, tone growing more serious. "But first things first: I want no complaints about this plan. Not a single one. It's our safest and best option and I don't care if you disagree. This isn't a fucking democracy, okay? I give the orders, you do as I say."

Unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes, Anna said: "Okay, Stalin. What's your idea?"

Merida cleared her throat. "Kristoff can drive, right?"

Anna's eyes drifted to Kristoff at the same time as Merida's. Kristoff startled, surprised and a little taken aback by the sudden attention. "Uh… Yeah. I got my license earlier this year."

This was met with a nod of approval from the murderer. "Good. So here's my deal: Kristoff, you and Anna take Elsa's car towards Hallingby. You follow this road straight ahead in the direction of the village, and just before you reach it, you'll see this motel on your right. Oaken's. You two will go there and get us all a place to sleep for tonight, okay?"

Anna nodded, but with reluctance. It sounded like an easy enough task, and she saw the sense in it. Yet, it didn't sit well with her. "And I suppose that you'll fetch Elsa and join us there later?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth."

Even though Anna knew Merida would be more than qualified to ensure Elsa's safe return, she couldn't accept this. It felt wrong. She was responsible for this, along with Elsa. Leaving with Kristoff, if only for a short while, felt like running away. Could she do what she'd chastised Elsa for doing? Wasn't that hypocritical more than anything?

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. This wasn't okay, and, and… I don't really _want_ to talk to Elsa right now, but I _should._ It's the right thing to do."

Merida gave her a stern look. "That's true. But not now. You'll get pissed again. She'll do the same. It might be better if you both take some time to cool down and think." She took a step forward, ready to approach the woods. "And besides, you wouldn't find her there in the dark. I would. I'm not unfamiliar with tracking people down."

It was probably for the best not to ask for an elaboration on that statement. Instead, Anna chose to protest some more. "Please? Take me with you. I should make things right."

"Something you're obviously not ready for. Your hands are clenched into fists again."

Anna looked down at her hands, shocked to see proof of her persisting, slumbering rage.

"And would you just leave poor Kristoff here all alone?" Merida laughed. "Or he could come with us too! Three's a nice crowd. Let's make a find-Elsa field trip out of this, shall we? I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

That was an argument Anna couldn't fight. She opted to throw her armour down and leave the battleground with some shreds of honour still intact. "You win, Supreme Leader," she said with a weak attempt at humour and a smile. "I'll cool down and think like you told me to. We'll get there. And I trust you to bring my sister back safely."

Merida smirked before walking farther away from her, moving towards the trees and their darkness at a steady pace. "Consider that wish granted. For now, the key's in the ignition, so don't waste any more time and go. And… Be careful."

"Hm… You too."

_Consider that wish granted_. Anna would do that. Merida may have been terrifying, but she was also Elsa's girlfriend, and if Anna had faith in anyone when it came to dealing with her sister, it was Merida Dunbroch. There was nothing to worry about there, she told herself. This would turn out okay. 

She tore her gaze away from Merida's back and turned to Kristoff, who gave her an inquisitive look from the car, soft brown eyes meeting hers. "Let's go?"

Merida could do this. Anna herself had to focus on the task at hand and the boy accompanying her. The boy who deserved answers as much as she did.

"Yeah," she replied, once more wishing for this night to just be over already. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conflict! Whose side are you on? Anna's, or Elsa's? Do let me know! Of course any other thoughts about the story as a whole are welcome too.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed, and that you'll have a lovely day!

**Author's Note:**

> And that concludes chapter one! Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought? By the way, I don't do 'consistent chapter length', so don't expect 8K words with every single update. Stuff happend sometimes.
> 
> I hope you'll comment and stick with me on this rollercoaster ride!


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